


Out of the Darkness

by she_whomustnotbenamed



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Grief, Jopper, Romance, Slow Burn, a bit of mileven, mostly a jopper family fic, some jancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-15
Updated: 2018-03-27
Packaged: 2019-03-05 07:45:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 33,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13383315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/she_whomustnotbenamed/pseuds/she_whomustnotbenamed
Summary: A post season 2 series of connected one-shots that fill in the gap between season 2 and season 3. It's essentially a slow burn fic showing how Joyce and Hopper eventually end up together and end up as a family. Each chapter is one night that they spent together.





	1. The First Night

**Author's Note:**

> This is mostly a Jopper fic. There are brief moments of Jancy and small moments of Mileven. The kids are all present, but Will and Eleven appear the most. 
> 
> I have no idea what the show will call Eleven/Jane next season, so I picked one and stuck with it until we know. 
> 
> This is my first ST fic! I tried my best to keep things in character and as 'canon' as I could while trying to write the future.

It all started after the gate closed. It was that night, the night that Jim Hopper carried an exhausted Eleven into Joyce’s house, that sparked the beginning…of everything.

That night, was the first night that he stayed over. He didn’t do any sleeping, however. Not with the dead Demogorgon in the refrigerator, the teenager passed out on the floor, and the two traumatized pre-teens who had just gone through hell and back. Months down the road, he would properly spend the night. The real adult way...with a real bed, real sheets and a very real Joyce beside him, but that was a long way away.

  
“Joyce, you should get some sleep.”

His hand was warm and comforting against her shoulder. Despite her sweater and the blanket that was wrapped around her upper body, she couldn’t escape the bitter chill that sank deep into her bones. “I don’t want to leave him.” Her gaze remained fixed on her son’s pale form. Her jittery hands swept over his head, checking his temperature, before finally resting on his arm.

Hopper understood the sentiment. The little girl who had saved them all was asleep in Joyce’s bed. He didn’t want to leave her either, but he had things to take care of. He squeezed her shoulder in sympathy as he studied the boy. “I’ll stay with him.”

For a few seconds, Joyce allowed herself to consider his offer. She blinked, longer than necessary, and soon, her mind was flooded with images of that…thing…as it possessed her son. Memories of his screams and howls as the creature was burnt out of him assaulted her and her eyes sprang open to land on him again. He was fine. He was alive. Unconsciously, she checked for his pulse and watched as his chest rose up and down. “No, no. It should be me.”

Behind her, Hopper let a soft sigh escape from his lips at her predictable answer. He moved his hand from her shoulder so that he could scratch his head. “How bout’ a smoke, then?” His fingers fumbled into his pocket for a pack of cigarettes. The unlit stick was already against his lips as he added, “ten minutes. Tops.”

A ghost of a smile crept across her face at his persistence. A cigarette would be nice. She tucked the blankets around Will and kissed him across the forehead. “Ten minutes,” she agreed, with little feeling.

  
“It can be nine if we hurry,” Hopper deadpanned. He watched to make sure that she was actually following through with it before he turned and left the room.

With wobbly legs, she followed him out and down the hall. When they reached the living room, they had to side step around the piles of sleeping children, until they made it safely into the kitchen.

“Is that...Demo...Demomonster still in there?” Joyce pointed her shaky fingers towards the refrigerator as she sat down.

Hopper sat beside her and handed her a lit cigarette. “Demogorgon,” he corrected, without thinking. When her brown eyes widened in surprise, he chuckled and added, “that’s what the kid says it’s called, anyway.”

  
She wasn’t sure which ‘kid’ he was speaking of, but it didn’t matter. “Demogorgon.” The name sounded ridiculous on her lips and she shook her head as she inhaled. Her lungs quickly revolted from his unfiltered cigarette and she started to cough.

  
In between puffs of his own, he said, “I got rid of it.” Meeting her narrowed eyes, Hopper smirked.

  
Joyce let out a relieved sigh and didn’t bother to ask how. She didn’t care to know. Whatever that thing was, whatever it was called...was gone. They were safe. For now. Her drowsy eyes closed only to snap back open when an image of Bob drifted to her mind. He wasn’t safe. He was dead, and it was all her fault. The image vanished and was replaced by the man sitting beside her.

  
“Hey,” he assured, in a brisk way that made her feel safe, “you’re okay.” He didn’t fill her head with untrue promises. He didn’t insist that everything was fine. It wasn’t. It may never be. But, she was alive and so were her children, and that was enough for now. It had to be.

  
Her teeth nibbled on her left thumb nail as her eyes moved between him and a fixed point across the room. He studied her haggard features, but knew better than to push the sleep issue. She wasn’t going to sleep for the same reasons that he wasn’t going to sleep. He understood her in that regard. Out of the blue, she chuckled.  
“What?” he wondered, watching as her nose adorably scrunched up. He leaned forward and watched as she continued to laugh.

“It’s just, all this time, you’ve had that girl...and no one knew. I don’t even know why I’m laughing.” Her soft laughter died down slowly and when she met his eyes, they shared a long, silent look before he sheepishly ducked his head down.

  
“I’m sorry.” He wasn’t sorry that he didn’t tell her. It was too dangerous, for everyone involved, but he was sorry that he _couldn’t_ tell her. The difference between didn’t and couldn’t was an important distinction.

  
“I get it,” she quietly replied. Her hand went to his wrist. At the contact, his eyes darted up to meet hers and she sent him a sad smile. “Hop, it’s okay.”

He didn’t realize how much he needed to hear those words until she said them. Hopper opened his mouth to respond, but nothing would come out, so instead, he stayed quiet and watched as her mind drifted off again.

  
They were content to sit in silence, but then a sharp yell, and then another echoed down the hall and into the kitchen. It was Joyce who heard it first. “It’s Will.” To her surprise, Hopper was up and out of his chair before she could even extinguish her cigarette.

  
Together they raced down the hall and when they made it to Will’s room, they were startled by Eleven, who was sitting on the edge of his bed with her hand in his.  
Without turning to look at them, the girl said, “nightmare.”

  
Joyce quickly moved towards the bed. Will was no longer screaming. Eleven’s comforting touch had lulled him back to sleep. Tears sprung to Joyce’s eyes as she watched. She wanted to wrap Eleven in a big hug and never let her go, but she didn’t want to disturb the moment, so she held back and wrapped her arms around herself instead.

  
Behind her, Hopper moved closer, but also kept his distance. The four of them stayed in the room until the the sun crept over the horizon. And that, was the first time that he spent the night.


	2. The Second Night

Joyce heard the tinkling of the bell attached to Melvald’s front door, but she paid no attention. It wasn’t until a large shadow loomed over her register that she took her eyes off of the dress shirt that she was mending. She wasn’t surprised to find Hopper staring back at her. A month had passed since the gate closed and Christmas was just around the corner. Everyone seemed to be settling into some semblance of a normal life. Everyone…but her. 

“Joyce.” His greeting held little inflection as he studied her features. The purple bruises around her neck had all but disappeared, a sign that despite her disheveled appearance, her body was actively healing. 

Slightly flustered by his stare, she pushed her hair behind her ears. “Hopper,” she greeted. Then, more firmly, she added, “what can I do for you?” 

Her tone wasn’t unkind, but it wasn’t overly friendly, either. Lately, he had been checking on her at least once a day and while a part of her found it comforting, another part of her, longed for him to stop. 

Hopper’s jaw tensed at her response. He watched as she went back to her sewing and then he let out a sigh. “You’re not sleeping.” It wasn’t a question, it was a statement. One that he knew wasn’t in any way presumptuous. 

Joyce rolled her eyes. “What else is new?”

Glancing around to make sure that no one was within ear shot, Hopper then leaned his large frame across the counter. “Why didn’t you tell me about the nightmares?” There was a hint of betrayal in his tone. 

In shock, her round eyes snapped up to meet his. “How do you know about…?”

Hopper didn’t give her a chance to finish. “She told me.”

Her eyes frantically shifted back and forth, searching his for answers. “What? How?” Her hands started to shake and she sat the shirt down. 

Hopper backed up and out of her personal space and shifted his hat so that it was out of his eyes. With his voice low, he explained, “she’s been talking to Will.”

Feeling frantic at the new information, Joyce quickly interrupted him. “Talking to him how? He knows not to trust the phone.” 

Hopper shook his head. “Not on the phone.” He shot her a warning look, silently reminding her that he couldn’t say more. He pointed to his head, hoping that she would understand that Will and Eleven had an otherworldly connection. Eventually, she nodded (though her mind was full of questions) and he was briefly relieved. “I don’t know when he told her, exactly, but she came to me about it last night.” Her eyes were doing that thing where they looked so intensely into his that he completely lost his train of thought. It took him a few seconds to get it back. “He’s worried about you.” His voice dropped lower. “So am I.” 

She quickly averted her eyes in embarrassment and just like that, the contact was broken, “Hop, she warned. “I’m okay. The boys...they, they… just worry too much. That’s all.” 

He was undeterred. “Joyce, I’m here. You can call me when it gets bad!” His voice rose unexpectedly. Her stubbornness often drove him crazy.

“I can’t do this right now,” she insisted. Her hands were still trembling and her body was suddenly tense. “Will’s dress shirt doesn’t fit, I have to get it ready for the dance.” She held it up to show him. “I’m stuck here till’ 6 and Jonathan’s on that school trip, so I have to get Will at the Wheeler’s and then make dinner so I really don’t have time for this.” The shirt flew back and forth in the air as she tried to get her point across. 

Her words made his head spin. It took him a minute to process it all. Then, when he did, he was quick to put a plan into place. “How bout’ I pick up Will and bring him home. I can make dinner.” He made a face at his own words and then corrected, “actually, I’ll just grab take-out for us.” 

She was shaking her head before he could finish. “Thank you, but no. You don’t have to do that.” She had survived all those years on her own and she would continue to do so. 

Expecting her response, Hopper thought fast. “It’s not just for you. I can pick her up at the cabin before I head to the Wheelers.” Lowering his voice so that it was just above a whisper he continued, “I’ll be dad of the year if she can see Mike for even a second…” 

Despite her reluctance, his ‘dad of the year’ comment made her smile, which then made his smile grow larger. “She can have dinner with us. She’d love to see you guys.” 

“Come on, Hopper.” Years with Lonnie had taught her to know a con when she heard one. 

Hopper quickly went in for the kill. “She’s worried about your nightmares.” 

Realizing that she was no match for him, or his adopted daughter, she let out a defeated sigh. “Fine, you win.” With a cocky grin, he playfully tilted his hat like an old western Cowboy and walked away. “But no KFC!” she called out. He grinned at her from the door and she ducked her head down to hide her small smile. 

***

It should have felt weird being in the house without Joyce, but it didn’t. Hopper had spent enough time there over the past year that he was oddly comfortable there on his own. It didn’t feel like home, but he didn’t feel like a guest, either. 

He moved around the kitchen, aimlessly emptying out take-out containers and pulling out plates and utensils until he looked at the time and realized that Joyce would be home any second. Surveying the table, he frowned at his unorganized attempt at a decent dinner. Then, in a booming voice, he called for Will and Eleven. His thick boots tapped against the linoleum floor as he waited and waited…and waited some more. 

“Hey!” He called out again. This time, he moved down the hall and towards Will’s bedroom. “This food’s gonna be cold soon.” Suspiciously, he eyed up the closed bedroom door and then pushed it open without knocking. 

Eleven and Will were sitting in the middle of the room. They each had a bandana wrapped around their eyes and there was a radio crackling beside them. The lights flickered and the radio made a high pitched screeching sound before it overheated and gave out altogether. “Jesus,” blurted Hopper. 

Will lifted his bandana and smiled at his friend. “It worked that time!” 

The girl lifted her own bandana and offered him a return smile. “Yes. I found you right away.” 

Hopper watched their interaction with narrowed eyes. “What’s going on?”

“We’re talking.” She told him. When she looked up, she swiped at her bloody nose with a tissue.

“I can see that,” he bit back. Then, he let out a sigh. “Listen…I don’t understand this.” He pointing between them and added, “but you’ve gotta be careful.” He shot Eleven a poignant look before focusing on Will. “And don’t do this in front of your mom right now…she’s got enough going on without all this.” 

Will’s expressive eyes studied him and Hopper stared right back. Will wasn’t intimidated. “I’ve got a cool superpower. It only works with El, but it’s still cool.” 

Hopper’s features softened at the excitement in Will’s voice. It was good to see him happy and he found it hard to crush that. His fingers ran through his messy hat hair as he let out a groan. “Alright…okay. It’s a cool superpower,” he finally admitted. “But can we leave it alone for tonight? Your mom needs to get some rest before you go showing off.” 

“Definitely,” agreed Will. After all, he had been the one worried enough to tell Eleven about the nightmares. 

Bright lights outside lit up the room as Joyce’s car pulled up to the house. It snapped Hopper into action. He clapped his hands, and suddenly, his gruff voice was all business. “I told you kids that dinner was ready. Now let’s, go!” He left the room and then smirked when he heard them scrambling to follow him. 

After dinner, Will and Eleven watched TV while the adults cleaned up. Hopper kept sneaking peeks into the living room until Joyce playfully slapped his arm. “Stop worrying, she’s fine.” 

He wasn’t spying out of worry. All the kids had a knack for doing the exact opposite of what he told them to do. He really didn’t want a super power demonstration derailing the quiet night. “Like you’ve got room to talk,” he joked. 

“I can at least let him be in the next room.” As she was drying a plate, it nearly slipped out of her hands and she let out a gasp, catching it just in time before it could crash to the floor.

Hopper grinned. “Nice save.” For once it wasn’t him making a fool of himself in the kitchen. He made a conscious effort to stop spying, and they got done cleaning in record time. They were bathed in silence then, but it wasn’t the uncomfortable kind. Their shared adolescence made it hard to feel uncomfortable around each other. 

Her tired body nearly collapsed into the chair as she pulled out a cigarette and lit it. He joined her with his own, and then remarked, “feels like Deja Vu.” 

Joyce blew out a puff of smoke and then giggled. “Which time?” The past year and half blended together in her brain. How many times had they done the same thing? 

Hopper glanced at the fridge, where a drawing of Bob was hung with pride. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what her nightmares were about. “Do you wanna talk about it?” He tapped his cigarette against the ashtray and then let it dangle there, “the nightmares, I mean?” 

All signs of playfulness vanished from her features. Suddenly, the fake grains of wood on her plastic table were fascinating, and she focused on them. “No.” 

Talking had certainly never been his specialty, so he was fine not pushing it. But, he also cared about her too much to see her continue down the dangerous path of silence. He had been down that road before. It didn’t end well. She wasn’t looking at him, and it gave him the chance to watch her. “It might help.”

“Hopper.” Her warning should have been enough, but she continued, “I don’t want to get into it.” 

Hopper inhaled from his cigarette again. As he exhaled, he said, “okay.” Her surprised eyes met his and he smiled. “If you ever want to...I’m here.” 

Swallowing hard, Joyce nodded. He had been there for her, stood by her, and believed in her…when no one else had. The idea that he was still there, supporting her, made her want to burst into tears. Did she deserve any of it? He had his own life and now, another life to take care of, and yet, there he was, taking care of her. Guilt pooled into the pit of her stomach. 

Her brooding thoughts were interrupted by Will, who had come into the kitchen in search of a snack. “The movie started! You guys should watch with us!” 

Hopper shared a look with Joyce and then stood up. “Thanks for the offer buddy, but we’ve gotta get going.” 

“What? You can’t go yet,” Will insisted. “El’s never seen it!” 

Predictably, Eleven appeared in the kitchen with her arms crossed. “Stay.” 

She was a tough person to say no to. “Kid, I have to work early…” 

Her dark eyes pleaded with his. “Please? One movie?” 

Hopper groaned and bit his lip in frustration. He already felt bad enough that she had to be hidden away for the next year. 

“Come on, James. It’s one movie,” chirped Joyce. She smiled with glee at the jovial use of his first name.

Feeling slightly betrayed, he glanced at her, and then couldn’t help but laugh at her amused face. Yup. He was definitely a goner. “Alright. One movie…but there better be popcorn.” 

“Got it!” Will was already on top of it. He turned on the stove and placed a Jiffy Pop on top of the burner. 

“Takes too long,” Eleven commented, in a dry tone. She fixed her gaze on the stove and after a few seconds, the Jiffy Pop sprang to life as the kernels overheated and burst. Soon, popcorn was overflowing from the metal holder.

“Whoa!” shouted Will. “That was awesome.” 

Eleven smiled with pride and repeated, “awesome.” 

Joyce’s stunned gaze moved between Will and Eleven. And Hopper, sent his daughter a glare. 

“What’d we talk about?” came his drawl. When she stuck her chin out in defiance, he added, “I said, no superpowers.” 

“You said, no Will super powers,” she corrected. 

“That’s true,” added Will. He was already munching on the piping hot popcorn. 

Joyce scrunched up her nose in confusion. “Will super powers?” 

“Don’t worry about it,” Hopper insisted. “It’s nothing.” He glanced at the kids with a steely, gaze until they readily played along. 

“It’s just a game mom,” Will lied. His mouth was cracked into a wide grin.

Joyce eyed them all suspiciously, but before she could quiz them on it, Hopper grabbed her by the elbow and ushered her out of the room. “Let’s go, we’re missing the movie.” He looked over his shoulder to make sure that the kids were following behind. 

By the time the credits rolled, Joyce was sound asleep. Her head was resting on the arm of the couch and her legs were curled up beside her. Both Hopper and Will called out her name, but she slept right through it. 

“Let’s just let her sleep. She needs it.” Hopper pursed his lips together as he mulled over his options. He would feel like a world class asshole if he just up and left without letting her know, but he also didn’t want to wake her. 

As if she were reading his mind, Eleven piped up, “stay.” 

“What?” asked Hopper.

“We can stay here.” 

“You can’t just invite yourself to stay over.” 

His response backed him into a corner and he knew it, when Will said, “you should stay over. El, you can sleep in my room!” 

Eleven’s brown eyes lit up. “I can?” 

“I have a sleeping bag you can use. Mike uses it all the time.” The kids took off for his room, but Hopper stopped them in their tracks. 

“Woah, whoa, whoa.” His booming voice was loud and he regretted it when he remembered that Joyce was sleeping. He glanced over, but she was still dead to the world. “This…” he pointed between Will and Eleven before continuing, “ain’t happening.” 

“What’s not?” asked Eleven. 

“You’re not sleeping in the same room.” 

“Why?” She wondered. 

“Because I don’t need you two testing out his powers all night, that’s why.” 

Catching on, Will sent Hopper a hopeful smile. “Wait, so does that mean you’re staying over?”

Biting his lip, Hopper glanced over at Joyce and sighed. It really seemed like the only logical thing to do. Finally, he shrugged. “Yeah. El, you can sleep in Jonathan’s room, since he’s away.” Before the kids could get too excited, he held up his hand and continued, “remember…” he trailed off. 

“No superpowers tonight,” finished Will. He looked over towards his mom and then back at Hopper with furrowed brows. “She’ll be okay, right?” His childlike tone was suddenly sad. 

Out of the blue, Hopper’s chest filled with immense pride at the way the boy cared for his mother. He gave his shoulder a squeeze and said, “she will. She’s tough, and I’ll help her, too.” The relief that took over Will’s face made his throat run dry. He suddenly wanted to find Lonnie and knock him out for forcing his two sons to grow up so quickly. He was snapped out of his thoughts by Eleven.

“Told you,” she taunted as she turned to Will. The boy’s cheeks instantly reddened and he shyly looked towards the floor. “I knew he would help.” 

Flustered that he was out of the loop, Hopper demanded, “what?”

“Nothing,” Eleven teased. 

Will shook his head. “Yeah, nothing. Come on, El.” 

In a loud whisper, Hopper called out to them, but they were already gone. 

Joyce’s first nightmare struck sometime after midnight. One minute, she was peacefully asleep, and the next minute she was screaming, shaking, and gasping for breath. From the recliner across the room, Hopper jolted awake and immediately went to her side. 

The dining room light was on, illuminating the living room in dim light. He kneeled in front of her and tried to focus her attention. “Joyce, it’s me. You’re home. You’re safe.” 

Her breathing came in fast pants and her eyes wouldn’t focus on him. Barely awake, her mind couldn’t adjust to the familiar surroundings. “No!” she yelled, before bursting into tears. 

Hopper’s hands went to her face. “Hey, Joyce...breathe. You can do it. In and out.” He coaxed her body back down from the brink of a panic attack. 

When her eyes slid into focus, her face crumpled in confusion. “Hop?” As if she didn’t believe that he was really there, her hands cradled his cheeks. “You’re okay?” 

Confused, he shook his head, “I’m right here. I’m okay.” He moved long enough to give his aching knees a reprieve by sitting beside her on the couch. 

Uncharacteristically needy, her arms moved from his face to his neck and soon, her small frame was wrapped around him. “I thought you were gone.” Her tears came rapidly as she broke down against his chest. Forcing herself to be strong and resilient had taken its’ toll on her psyche. 

“I’m not gone.” 

“Bob’s gone.” 

Her cries broke his heart and there was absolutely nothing he could do about it. That fact made him feel even worse. Suddenly, she pulled her head away from his chest, the fear was back in her eyes. “Where’s Will?” 

Hopper arms circled around her and squeezed tight. “He’s in his room, asleep. He’s okay.”  
Frantically, she struggled to get up, but his strong arms wouldn’t allow it. “No, he’s not. I have to go.” 

“Joyce, he’s okay. I promise. I just checked on him an hour ago.” He kept repeating his words over and over until her panic subsided. 

Her nightmares were worse than he could have ever imagined. The fact that she had gone through them night after night, alone...made his stomach churn with guilt. Eventually she fell back to sleep, cradled in his arms, until another nightmare jolted them both awake, and then the process started all over again.


	3. The Third Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not all the 'nights' they spend together will take place at Joyce's house. A good portion will, but I wanted to weave some canon events in (like the Snow Ball) and other things. All the nights are connected, too. And in order. 
> 
> Thanks for reading. :)

December 15, 1984

Inside the school gymnasium, the snowball dance carried on, and outside, in the warmth of his police issued truck, Joyce and Hopper listened to music and made small talk. It was nice to sit and pretend to be normal parents who lived normal lives.

Every so often, the CB radio would crackle to life and voices could be heard discussing ordinary Hawkins police matters. Speeding tickets. Drunk teenagers. The occasional domestic disturbance. It was all so…ordinary. So…opposite of the life they were currently leading.

“Aren’t you on duty tonight?” she wondered, when he changed the channel so that there was nothing but static.

Hopper shrugged. “I’m the chief.” She arched an amused eyebrow and he added, “I offered to take middle school patrol tonight. I can work and keep her safe. It’s a win-win.”

“It’s the other way around. I think she keeps you safe, with those powers of hers.”

“Well, yeah, there’s that.”

It was warm in the car, but not warm enough. A shiver ran down Joyce’s spine. He noticed, and cranked the heat up, even though he was sweating. “You don’t wanna piss her off, that’s for sure. It ain’t pretty.”

Joyce chuckled softly and met his eyes. Their gazes locked for a long time and it was nice sharing such a content moment with her.

“Speaking of her, should we…I mean, does she want to be called Jane, now? It’s her name...”

“She’ll have to be Jane in public, but she likes El,” he said, rather gruffly. “It’s that Wheeler. He gave her that name and now she won’t part with it.”

Joyce clicked her tongue at his disapproval. “He’s a nice boy,” she admonished. “Way nicer than you were at that age.”

Hopper brooded silently for a second. She was right, but it was still hard for him to let go. His protective nature was constantly battling with his rational mind. Eventually, a sly grin crossed his lips when he thought of their own adolescence. “I don’t remember you complaining.”  Her cheeks turned pink as she met his eyes again. The spell was broken when someone banged on the window. She jumped in fright and his hand instantly went to his gun.

Noticing that it was just Mike, Hopper relaxed. “Speak of the devil.” He rolled down the window and asked, “what are you doing out here?”

“The dance is over,” explained Mike.

“Where’s Will?” Joyce blurted. She leaned over Hopper until her elbows were digging into his thigh.

“I’m right here, mom.” Will stepped out from behind Mike just long enough to wave at her.

“Where’s El?” demanded Hopper.

“She’s coming, she went to the bathroom.” Mike quickly launched into the speech he had planned. “My mom said that we could all hang out at my house after the dance. She’s ordering pizza. It’ll just be the party. I promise. Can she come?”

“No,” Hopper quickly responded. “That wasn’t part of the deal.”

“Mom, can I go?” Will asked. “Jonathan and Nancy said they can drive us.”

Joyce leaned in further and Hopper yelped in pain. “Joyce! Your elbow!”

The boys watched as the pair bickered until Joyce finally slid back into her seat with a frown and stared at her son. “We’ll be there the whole time,” Will added.

“Oh honey, I dunno…” After he had been taken, it had been hard to let go, now, after his second ordeal, it was nearly impossible. It was a suffocating feeling. For her and for him.

“Mom, please. Everyone else is going.”

He desperately wanted to be normal and she felt like a terrible mother taking that from him. Out of habit, she glanced towards Hopper for reassurance, but he just shook his head at her.

“You already know my answer!” he bellowed. “Joyce, it’s a bad idea.”

“I’ll be okay!” Will insisted, speaking to Hopper instead of his mother.

“We should just stick to the plan.” When Hopper realized that he had been speaking for Joyce, about her son, he made a face. He turned towards her, and noticed that she was studying him. “Sorry,” he mumbled.

“No. No, you’re right.” she agreed, but then she looked at her son’s somber expression and changed her mind. With a mischievous smile she said, “I think a few hours couldn’t hurt, though.” Will’s excited smile let her know that she had made the right call.

“So, El can come too?” Mike questioned.

Hopper stubbornly shot him down. “What? No, kid. She can’t.”  

“But, Will’s coming…”

“They aren’t a package deal!” He let out a frustrated sigh.  _ What is this? _ His mind demanded.  _ What are we, the Brady Bunch? _

Joyce couldn’t hide her laughter. She ignored the glare he sent her way.

Eleven walked over and the adults focused on her. “I have one night,” she told Hopper.

“Yeah, and your one night’s over. Let’s go.”

“It’s not over till’ midnight!” she accused, like he was attempting to trick her.

Hopper made a face. “Who taught you that?”

She smirked at Mike before looking back at him. “One night,” she snapped.

Hopper let out a disgruntled groan. “Jesus Christ, El. Let’s not get hung up on a technicality.”

Eleven wasn’t going to go down without a fight. “You promised!!”

His mouth opened to argue, but then he quickly shut it when he realized that he had nothing to say to that. Slamming his hand against the steering wheel, he stared straight ahead as his mind mulled over the idea. It wasn’t Mike that he was afraid of. It was the rest of the world. Unexpectedly, a warm hand slid across his and his eyes darted towards the woman beside him in surprise.

“It’s only three hours,” came her soft comment. They were in the same boat. He saw nothing but understanding in her eyes and that made him feel slightly better. She knew the risks. Better than anyone. “We can pick them up at midnight.” Hopper let out another dramatic groan and let his forehead crash against the steering wheel.

When he finally looked back at Eleven, he noticed that her eyes were darting between him and Joyce with interest. “Okay.”

“Really?” Her wide smile tugged at his heart.

“Jonathan will take you. You’re to go right there and not leave that house until I come to get you. Got it?”

“Yes,” she insisted.

“I swear to god, if you kids leave that house…”

“We know, we know,” insisted Mike. “We won’t, I promise!” He grabbed Eleven’s hand in excitement.

“Will, I’ll pick you up!” Joyce told him. She pushed the large man back so that she could see her son. “Have fun.”

“Okay, okay!” The trio ran off towards their next adventure before the adults could change their minds.

“What just happened?” wondered Hopper.

Joyce’s response was wary. “We’re giving them some space.”

“Don’t tell me you’re having second thoughts!” He had his foot near the gas pedal, ready to drive off if she gave him any indication that she had changed her mind.

“No. But, maybe we could wait at that diner, you know…the one near Maple Street?”

“Jenson’s? They have shit coffee,” he grumbled.

“It’s close. We could get to them fast if we had to.”

Hopper thought over her idea and then smiled with renewed confidence. He put the car in drive and peeled out of the lot. “You know, people are gonna talk, if we keep spending the night together,” he joked, dryly. Her laughter soon followed. Seeing her happy, even for a second, was enough for him.

“I’m already the town lunatic. It can’t get much worse.”

“And I’m the town whore. We’re quite a pair, aren’t we?” He shared a brief look with her before focusing back on the road.

“We always were Hop.” 


	4. The Fourth Night

December 31, 1984

To avoid trekking snow everywhere, Hopper shuffled into Joyce’s house through the back door. He barely got to feel the comfort of the warm house when he was snapped at by his daughter.

“No signal.” She was perched on top of the counter, watching as Joyce pulled an assortment of frozen junk food out of the oven. “It’s 11:30.”

Knowing that he was caught, he smiled ridiculously and then gave up when she refused to crack. “I got tied up. Mr. Brown caught the Carson twins setting off fireworks in his field again.”

Like an angry housewife, Eleven crossed her arms. “You didn’t call.”

Joyce moved the food onto a tray and then ruffled the girl’s hair in amusement. The thick brown locks were losing their curl as they grew out. “Sweetheart, why don’t you bring these into the living room. The boys will send a search party if you don’t get back soon.” Eleven’s eyes were still narrowed in his direction, but Joyce’s voice had a soothing quality to it that she couldn’t ignore. She jumped down off the counter and left with the food.

With a sigh, Hopper reached into the fridge and grabbed a beer that he knew was be waiting for him. “It’s like having a wife and a daughter at the same time.”

Joyce hit him with a knowing smirk. “She worries about you.”

“She shouldn’t,” he insisted. The beer can made a loud pop as he opened it and took a long sip. “It’s New Year’s Eve. She’s with her friends. You’d think she’d be focused on that instead of me.”

Snorting at the way he managed to be both self-deprecating and clueless at the same time, Joyce snatched the beer from his hand and took a sip. She then made a disgusted face and handed it right back. “You’re her dad.”

There was a whole heavy conversation that they could get into about it, but he purposefully avoided that by changing the subject. “Thanks for letting them spend the night here.” He motioned towards the rowdy living room.

“Oh, it’s no problem.” She followed his gaze and smiled when she heard Will’s voice. “I’m sure they’d rather be at Mike’s, but it’s easier having Will home.”

“It just feels safer here,” added Hopper. Then, when he thought over his words, he chuckled, and she quickly joined in. “You know, despite everything.” She grabbed his beer again and he pretended to be offended as she took another sip.

The kids started to yell louder and a countdown echoed into the kitchen. “I guess we should watch the ball drop,” Joyce said.

Having just noticed, Hopper pointed to the ‘1985’ party hat she had on her head. “Fingers crossed for an uneventful year.”

“Don’t worry. We saved you a party hat,” she mused. “It’ll look great on that big head of yours.” She grabbed the hat and stood on the very tip of her toes to place it on his head.

Goofily, he smiled and she giggled at the sight of him. They made it into the living room just in time to see the ball drop. The kids screamed and threw confetti. They paid no attention to the adults as they went about their celebrating. When Mike leaned in and kissed Eleven across the lips, Hopper made a face and Joyce playfully nudged him in the side. “Oh, stop.”

“He’s harmless. I know,” he insisted, pinching the bridge of his nose. “But, I still don’t wanna see that…”

Instead of letting it go, Joyce rolled her eyes at his stubbornness. “Everyone kisses on New Year’s Eve, Hop.” Her gaze moved to the TV where the camera was panning from one kissing couple to the next. When her eyes fell back to his, she noticed that he was staring at her with an intense expression. Her brows furrowed in confusion. “What?” Self-consciously, she bit her lip.

“Everyone?” He didn’t give her a chance to answer. Something in the way she stared at him knocked all rational thinking out of his mind and before he knew what he was doing, he suddenly leaned over and pressed his lips against hers.

The kiss was quick, almost chaste, but the electricity that shot from her head to her toes stunned her. Feeling it too, he could do nothing but stare at her in amazement after he pulled away. It wasn’t their first New Year’s Eve kiss. They had shared some in High School and even one in Middle School. But this one felt different. This one felt real in a way that the others hadn’t.

Unsure what had possessed him to do it, he suddenly grew nervous. She was staring up at him with an unreadable expression. He wiped his damp palms across his uniform before he sheepishly turned away from her. His eyes immediately locked with Eleven’s.  _ Shit. How long had she been watching?  _ The girl mischievously smiled at him and then whispered something into Will’s ear. Whatever it was, it was clear that it was about him, because Will’s eyes went right to Hopper and then to his mother. The two kids continued to whisper and stare, even as their friends left the house to go celebrate in the front yard.

Eventually Will went outside and so did Joyce, but before Eleven could, Hopper pulled her towards him to give her a hug. “I’m sorry I was late, kid.”

Forgiving him, she relaxed in his arms. “Signal next time.”

“I will,” he promised. When she broke away, eager to join her friends, he stopped her. “Hey, what are you and Will planning?” He didn’t trust them. They had a habit of meddling in things that shouldn't be meddled in.

“Nothing.”

She was smiling and he easily dismissed her lie. “Hey, friends don’t lie!”

At his statement, her smile faltered. “You kissed her. Friends don’t kiss.”

Hopper let out an embarrassed sigh. “Friends can kiss on New Year’s Eve”

“No. They can’t,” she argued.

“Kid, trust me. They can.”

Eleven was undeterred. She crossed her arms and drilled her dark eyes into his with such determination that he took an unconscious step backwards. “You love her.”

Flustered, Hopper glanced towards the closed front door before running his hand through his hair. “Don’t go getting any wild ideas. We’re just friends.” As he said the words, he was reminded of how the kiss had felt and his cheeks reddened.

“Liar.”

He had nothing to say to that. He was lying. He loved Joyce. He knew it. He was fairly certain that everyone else did too. But, he wasn’t going to do anything about it. She had been through too much to have to deal with a train wreck like him. She deserved more. She deserved...better. It wasn’t until Mike had pulled Eleven out of the room that he realized that she had never answered his question. Soon, he joined Joyce on the cold porch and in between puffs of a shared cigarette, he forgot all about their meddling children. 


	5. The Fifth Night

From his spot on the couch, Hopper’s body jumped at the feeling of a small hand poking his arm. Suddenly awake, and confused, he let out a frightened gasp when he saw Eleven hovering over him. “Jesus, kid.” Roughly, he scrubbed at his face and sat up. “What’s wrong?” 

“Will.” Her eyes were wet as she stared at him. It was the middle of the night. The lamp from her bedroom provided just enough light for her to see. When she spoke again, her voice cracked slightly. “He’s in trouble.” 

No longer groggy, Hopper stumbled to his feet so that he could put his hands on her shoulders. “What do you mean he’s in trouble?” 

“I don’t know.” Tears slipped down her cheeks when she realized that she couldn’t give him an answer. “Something’s wrong. I saw him.” She swiped at her wet cheeks with the sleeve of her shirt. 

“You’re sure it wasn’t a dream?” 

“Yes. He needs help.” Her tone went up an octave and it was all the explanation that he needed. 

A sickening feeling crept into his gut, but he remained outwardly calm. “Okay, okay. I’ll go check on him.” He scratched his head in thought, and then, with sudden speed, he went around the room collecting his things. “Stay. Here.” Hopper shrugged his coat on. “I’ll radio as soon as I can.”

“No.” At some point, she had put on her own boots and coat. She stared him down with an intense look. “I’m coming.”

His flippant response didn’t take long. “No. You’re not.”

“I am!”

“It could be dangerous!” he yelled, hoping that it would get his point across. “There’s nothing you can do.” The words sounded stupid outside of his head. There was plenty she could do. There was plenty that she had already done.

“I’m coming.”

Hopper finally sighed in defeat and threw open the front door. “Fine.”

“Fine!” she snapped back. 

Even with him driving two times over the speed limit, the drive to Will’s house took forever. The roads were slick with mid-January ice and he had to take the long way through town to avoid the non-salted roads. The car was quiet. When Hopper’s mind grew too full of worst case scenarios, he broke the silence. “Did you see Joyce, with Will?”

Eleven’s eyes flashed in the streetlights. “No,” she whispered. Hopper’s foot hit the gas pedal harder.

When they finally made it to the house, they didn’t have to drive far up the driveway to see that something wasn’t right. Every light was on and the front door was wide open. He was out of the truck before it came to a complete stop. “Wait here. I mean it.” 

With his gun drawn, he called Joyce’s name. Then more urgently, he called again. He walked up to the porch just as her frazzled form appeared in the doorway.

“Hopper?” She was dressed in pajamas, snow boots, and an old winter coat. Her eyes were wild with confusion.

Slowly lowering his gun, he looked around in concern. “Is everything okay?” 

“No. I mean, yeah, but…” she didn’t get to finish before her teenage son came up behind her.

“The bath didn’t work, he’s still really hot,” fretted Jonathan. When he noticed Hopper, his brows furrowed and he looked towards his mother for answers. “Is something wrong?”

At her son’s bad news, her face went pale. “Okay, we’ve gotta go then. He’s way too hot.” Forgetting Hopper was there, she went back into the house. “Get his big blanket, the green one that he likes.”

“Joyce,” Hopper ground out, so that she would stop in her tracks. “What’s wrong with Will?” In shock, she turned to face him just as he came towards her. “El woke me up. She said he’s in trouble.” He pointed towards the car. “We came to check on him.” He could tell that she had a million questions that she wanted to ask, but there was no time for that. 

Jonathan came back into the living room. He was struggling to carry Will, who was wrapped in a blanket. “He’s been sick all week,” explained Joyce. I can’t get his fever down. I’ve tried everything.” Even as her lips trembled, she sounded strong. 

With an almost involuntary movement, Hopper swept his hand across Will’s damp forehead. The skin instantly burned his hand. Looking down at the semi-conscious boy, Hopper asked, “how long’s he been like this?” 

It was Jonathan who quietly responded, “a couple hours. It’s worse, now.” 

“Come on. I’ll drive you to the hospital.” The words were out of Hopper’s mouth before his mind could process what was happening. They had been through so much. None of it was normal. But, a sick kid was something that parents faced every day. He himself had faced it, and while it didn’t make it any less scary, it gave him a sudden confidence boost. With his hand on Jonathan’s back, he guided him out the door. Joyce was stunned, but didn’t argue. 

Eleven shifted to the back seat as Jonathan laid his brother down beside her. He got in the back while Joyce slid in the passenger seat. The nearest decent sized hospital was a thirty minute drive, but the road conditions would make it even longer. 

Hopper glanced at his daughter through the rear-view mirror. Purposefully using her real name, he said, “Jane, that’s your brother, tonight. If anyone asks.” Formulating a plan to keep her safe kept his mind off of Will and the scared woman beside him. “And Joyce is your mom.”

She met his eyes and nodded without hesitation. “Yes.”

“I’m your brother then, too,” Jonathan added. Will’s head was cradled in his lap and he took his eyes off of him to glance at Hopper’s surprised reflection in the mirror. “I mean, if anyone asks,” he corrected.

“A family.” Eleven said, her voice full of emotion.

In the front seat, Joyce’s eyes met Hopper’s and lingered there long after he re-focused on the road.

Several hours later, Hopper didn’t hesitate before stepping into Will’s hospital room. Acting as a parental figure to the boy had become as normal as anything else in his crazy life. There was no use trying to fight it. “How’s he doing?”

Joyce, who was seated in her now familiar spot at Will’s bedside, looked up as he walked towards her. “Better, now that they got his fever to break.” Her hand clutched at the bed because she couldn’t bring herself to let go completely.

“They’re sure it’s just the flu?” He kept his voice impassive, hoping that his concern didn’t show through too much.

“That’s what they said,” she told him, with a frown. Her eyes moved back to Will. Neither wanted to openly discuss the possibility that his illness was anything more than an ordinary sickness.

Quietly he picked up an extra chair and moved it so that he could sit beside her. Together, they waited and watched. “Jonathan took El down to the vending machines,” he eventually said. “I can’t believe they’re still awake.”

Realizing how late it was, Joyce sucked in a breath. “Hopper, you guys should go home and get some sleep.”

“We’re fine here,” came his gruff response. She shot him a sideways glance and he defiantly shot one back. He had once brought the boy back from the brink of death. He wasn’t going to leave him now. Hopper leaned back in his chair and bent his long limbs so that his feet were propped up on the bottom of the hospital bed.

With her free hand, Joyce reached out for his knee and squeezed it. She didn’t have to thank him with words. He understood what her touch signified. They would get through it. Together.


	6. The Sixth Night

The snow was already falling at a steady rate when Joyce let Hopper and Eleven into her house. The girl was bundled up from head to toe, but she shivered, and Joyce’s arms went instantly around her. 

“Let’s get you warmed up, sweetie.” She led Eleven into the living room and Hopper followed behind.

“Here’s her bag,” he said, as he plopped the overnight bag down on the floor. “She should have everything she needs.”

Joyce waived her hand dismissively. “I’m sure she will.”

The local forecast was calling for ‘the blizzard of the century.’ In preparation, the entire town had ground to a halt, except for the police, who would have to bunker down at the station for the duration.

Already dreading the next few days, Hopper held his fingers to his eyes as he spoke. “Thanks again, for letting her stay here.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” Insisted Joyce. “We love having her.” She hung up Eleven’s coat and fussed over the sleeves. She then looked at the girl and winked. “It’ll be good to have some girl time.”

“Just make sure you all stay safe. I’ll be at the station if you need me.” When he removed his hands from his eyes, he noticed that Joyce was staring at him with a smile. “What?”

“It’s just a blizzard, Hop.”

His lips pursed in annoyance. “It’s never just anything around here, Joyce.”

“Mom, is she here?” Will yelled, from down the hall.

“She is!”

“Tell her to come to Jonathan’s room. He’s making me a new tape.”

Chuckling, Joyce patted Eleven on the shoulder. “See what I mean? It’ll be nice having a girl around.” Now on the same level, height wise, the girl smiled warmly and went to leave the room. Her father stopped her in her tracks.

“What, no goodbye?” With a wicked gleam, Eleven went to him and hugged him. He held onto her longer than necessary. He had made an honest attempt to get her out more. She would be perfectly safe and happy with Joyce. But, still, it was hard to let her go. The fear of losing her was an ever present weight on his shoulders.

“Behave.” He instructed as he pulled away and ruffled her hair. “Don’t be stupid.”

“We’re not stupid.” Her statement was also a reminder to him.

Glancing at Joyce, he added, “and don’t go trying to test Will’s powers again. You guys shorted out the TV last time. We don’t need the house burning down next.”

With an amused grin, Joyce said, “yeah, we just got it fixed up.” She pointed towards the new window and freshly painted walls. “And TV’s aren’t cheap!” She wasn’t entirely comfortable with the idea that Will could tap into some paranormal void to speak to Eleven. It made her anxious. Will however, was happier than he had ever been, so she tried not to let her reservations get in the way. Fondly, she looked at the girl who had helped save her son and her smile widened. A paranormal connection was better than no connection at all. 

“El, come on!” Will called out again. The girl quickly fled to be with her friend. Her absence, left Joyce and Hopper alone in silence. Three weeks had passed since New Year's’ Eve and aside from the 24 hours that Will had spent in the hospital, they hadn’t seen much of each other since. He blamed it on being busy with work. She blamed it on being busy with the kids. Deep down though, they both knew it was the kiss that they were hiding from. 

Awkwardly, Joyce fumbled with the hem of her shirt and broke the silence. “Be careful out there.”

His eyes registered relief at her words. “Now who’s the one worrying?” He squeezed her shoulder and stared at her for so long that she blushed and turned away with her hand against her hot cheek. With the spell broken, he zipped up his police jacket and prepared to go back out into the snowy night. “I’ll send the plow crew to clear your road first.”

She could only nod as she watched him go. The familiar, butterfly inducing feeling of a first love had always been there with him. Before, she had chalked it up to teenage nostalgia and shared history. Now, she wasn’t so sure, and she was afraid to think about it too much.

Late the next night, after the storm had dropped over a foot of snow on the small town, Hopper stumbled through the front door, startling Joyce from her place on the couch. “You said you would be here hours ago.” Her tone revealed more concern than anger. She abandoned her book to meet him at the door. “I was worrie….” Her words trailed off when she got a good look at his dejected form. His jacket and hat were soaking wet. His face was bright red and his eyes looked like they had been rubbed raw.

“Sorry,” he said, in a raspy voice. He let out a thundering cough and then explained, “Connor got his cruiser stuck on Chestnut. It took two hours to dig him out.” He coughed again and that was all it took for Joyce to be at his side. Her hands, tiny in comparison to his, pulled at his wet jacket.

“Jesus, Hopper.” She peeled it away from his body and reached for his face. His skin was burning. “You’re sick.” She yanked off his hat and tossed it onto the floor. “You’ve got a fever. Come on…come sit down.”

Weakly, he protested, “Joyce, it’s alright.”

“You’re gonna end up in the hospital like Will did if you don’t wise up!” came her annoyed reply. Taking his hand, she urged his exhausted body down the hall.

In his feverish daze, he didn’t realize that she had led him to her bedroom until he saw her bed. “No, no. I can sleep on the couch.” The roads were way too bad for him to drive home.

“You’re sick. You’ll sleep better in here.” She shoved him so hard that he fell back onto the bed. The old springs protested loudly at the sudden movement. She disappeared then, and he was too dizzy to wonder where she was.

Several minutes later, she was back with some pills and a glass of water. “Take this. For the fever.”

“I’m a grown man, Joyce,” he mumbled. He didn’t need her mothering him. But then, her hands were back on his face and they felt so soft and warm that he unconsciously leaned into them.

“Here.” Well practiced at dealing with sick children, she practically forced him to take the pills. Once he did, she pushed him back down and fussed over the covers. “Hopefully that will work. I’ll make you some tea with honey.”

“No,” he rasped. He didn’t push her away, but he closed his eyes to keep his head from pounding. “I’ll sleep it off.”

Worrying her teeth over her thumb, she watched him in concern. “I’ll stay in here with you, in case you need me.” His eyes snapped open to meet hers. He opened his mouth to protest, but she shot him her most withering mom look. “It’s my bed, Hopper! I’ll sleep in it if I want to.”

Too sick to argue, he only had the energy to sigh before sleep overtook him.

Hopper knew that he had slept in when the harsh morning light hit his eyes. He didn’t remember where he was at first. The bed felt warm and oddly familiar. In a flash, he sat up and quickly spotted Joyce across the room.

“What time is it?” He should be at the station. Or with his daughter. He should be anywhere but in her bed, and yet, he was making no move to get up.

“Almost 9.” She glanced at him in concern and put down the clothes that she was folding. “The kids are making breakfast.” Soon, she was at his side. “You look a bit better.”

“I feel human again.” He glanced down at his white sleeveless under shirt and shot her a quizzical look.

Joyce instantly blushed. “Oh, you took off your shirt in the middle of the night…”

In amusement, he made a show out of glancing under the covers at his legs. “Not my pants though, I see.”

She had a witty come back ready, but her older son knocked on the open door and interrupted them. “Breakfast is ready.” Jonathan glanced between the adults and then awkwardly averted his eyes. His following question, aimed at his mother, held a hint of disapproval. “He sleeps in your bed now?”

Hopper’s eyes were glued to the floor while Joyce pulled her beige sweater more tightly around her body. Her brown eyes locked with her son’s. “He was sick.” Her tone made it clear that it was the only explanation that he was going to get.

Hopper fumbled around for his uniform shirt and pulled it on. He could feel the teenager staring at him, so he stared back with a hard expression until Jonathan gave up and looked at his mother again. “I made waffles. They’re getting cold.”

“Thanks, sweetheart. I’ll be right there.” She smiled as he walked away and then turned to Hopper with a nervous chuckle. “Just a typical morning around here.”

Hopper snorted. “Your kid hates me.” He stood up and collected the rest of his clothes.

“He does not.”

“It’s fine.” He had to sit back down to put his boots on. “No one should like me.”

The flippant way that he made such a dark remark tore at her chest. Slapping him lightly across his bicep she chided, “don’t say that.”

Meeting her fierce gaze, he was ready to argue his case, but the warmth and admiration that he saw there rendered him speechless. He couldn’t remember the last time a woman had looked at him that way. He didn’t know how to react. Luckily, he didn’t have to. Soon, her hands were on his face and then on his forehead.

“You’re fever’s down. Keep taking the Tylenol today. You can bring the bottle with you.”

“It’s okay. We have some at the station.”

“Okay, but what if you’re out on the road?” Her hands started to move away from him, but he reached out and grabbed them before they could. Fear briefly flashed across her face before it was replaced by acceptance. Jolts of electricity were shooting through her body and into his. They were both helpless to stop it.

They stood there, frozen, until Eleven appeared in the doorway. Hopper saw her out of the corner of his eyes and quickly let go of Joyce’s hands. Momentarily stunned by the loss of contact, she backed away and then followed his gaze to the girl. The three of them stared at each other for far too long before Eleven broke the silence. “Your waffles are getting cold.” Unlike Jonathan, she had no questions. And she didn’t linger. Her contemplative gaze moved between them both before she left.

Flustered, Joyce crossed her arms. “I guess I should go before they send Will in, next.”

Hopper stood up and instantly towered over her. “This is gonna be one awkward breakfast.” He reached for his gun and badge that he didn’t remember placing on the night stand the night before. “Think I can skip it?”

Joyce’s nose crinkled when she smiled. “Not a chance.”


	7. The Seventh Night

The day before Valentine’s Day, Jim Hopper begrudgingly found himself in Melvald’s an hour before it closed. With the exception of Joyce, he was the only one in the store. “Got any of those heart candies?” he questioned, his tall head poking out of the next aisle.

Joyce, who was stocking the shelves, didn’t stop her task as she called out, “aisle 4.”

“What about chocolate?”

“Next to the cards.”

It was quiet for a bit, but eventually she heard cursing and rustling around. “What about a Teddy Bear?”

She placed a few rolls of toilet paper onto the shelf and then threw her hands into the air. “Seriously Hopper? Check the bottom shelf!” The gold watch on her wrist glittered in the overhead lights as she checked the time.

Several minutes later, he appeared before her. His arms were overflowing with an assortment of Valentine’s Day treats. “Can you check me out? I gotta get home before the kid flips out. I’m already late.”

Joyce eyed up his purchases before leading him to the register. She quickly rang up his items and silently hoped that they were all for Eleven. Maybe they’re for a hot date. Her mind taunted. Before taking his money, she blurted, “looks like you’ve got big plans for tomorrow.” Embarrassed at what had popped out of her mouth, she avoided his eyes.

“Yeah. Huge plans.” A sheepish chuckle escaped his lips. He felt ridiculous buying clichéd Valentine’s gifts. It had been a long time since he had made such a purchase. Her brown eyes suddenly met his and he was stunned by the pain he saw there. The space between his eyes furrowed in confusion. “With El,” he clarified.

Refusing to let his mind wonder why he felt such a need to put her at ease, he added, “it’s her first one and after the Wheeler kid leaves, we’re gonna watch cheesy movies and get fat on candy.” Relief settled on her face. She held out the bag to him, and it dangled in the air because he was too lost in her expression to take it.

An odd moment passed between them. One rife with unasked questions and answers until finally, he took the bag. His fingers brushed against hers as he did so. Forgetting that he was in a rush, he asked, “how bout’ you? Any big plans?”

Joyce’s finger tips moved to her lips and hovered there as she shook her head. Her cheeks were pink. It was chilly in the store, but she was uncomfortably warm. “Jonathan’s going out with Nancy. I’m hanging in with Will.” Proudly, she explained, “I’m taking it while I can get it. I’m sure he won’t wanna be anywhere near me in a couple years.”

Her smile, as it often did, lifted his mood. He smiled back and he came close to telling her that they should all hang out together, the four of them. They could poke fun at cheesy movies on her comfortable, well used couch and when the kids fell asleep, they could share a smoke and eat the rest of the candy. Briefly he wondered what she would even say if he did ask. Eventually though, reality won out. They could play house all they wanted, but they weren’t a family. Not really. She needed…no. She deserved, someone great. Someone like Bob. So, he didn’t ask. Instead, he said goodbye and told himself that her disappointed frown was just his imagination.

The next morning, Hopper was growing increasingly frustrated. Instead of eating breakfast, Eleven was interrogating him and he was running out of excuses. “Will and Joyce are watching movies, too.” She sulked and poked at her eggs. “We should watch together.”

“Give it up, kid.” He took large sips of his coffee in an attempt to wake himself up.

“They could come here.”

A bit too forcefully, he slammed his mug down against the table and coffee splashed out. “It ain’t happening.”

With the same burst of energy, she slammed her own cup down. “It should.” Hopper glared at her but didn’t say anything. He picked at his eggs but had no appetite to actually eat them. “You and Joyce should be happy.”

“We’re….” He almost said, ‘happy’ but she was a hard person to lie to, so his words trailed off instead.

“Halfway happy,” El answered. He didn’t understand how a child, who had spent her life in a lab, could read people so well.

Pushing back in his chair, Hopper crossed his thick arms and sighed. He had learned the hard way that sugar coating things didn’t work with her. He had promised her that he would be better. That he would tell her the truth. So, with a defeated shrug, he said, “I’m a black hole. Remember?”

Never taking her focus off of him, she responded, “yes.”

“Yeah, well. You remember what it means?”

“It sucks everything up.”

“Right.” His hand moved across the table to play with the turquoise hair tie that she still had on her wrist. “It got my girl. It got Will. It almost got you…”

Knowing where the conversation was headed, Eleven insisted, “it won’t get Joyce.”

His mood soured and it was hard for him to shake it off. “I think it already has.”

Barely blinking, the girl studied him. Placing her hand on his, she patted it softly, “No.” Uncomfortable with how emotional he had become, he darted his eyes away. “You saved her.”

In a way, he did save her, by saving Will, but he didn’t pat himself on the back for that. Bob was the true hero. He had saved them all, and the black hole had gotten him, too. He cleared his throat and pulled his hand away. “Eat.”

Eleven was not giving up. “You make her happy. Will wants her to be happy.”

Hopper’s patience ran out fast. He gave up on his eggs and pushed his plate away. “You know what’ll make her happy?” came his gruff question. “Him staying safe.” His tone made it clear that he was done with the subject. “Now eat. Your eggs are getting cold.”

Across town, Joyce was having a similar discussion with her youngest son, except she had no time to eat. “Jonathan, have you seen my coat?” She fluttered around the house like a lost bird until he looked up from his breakfast to answer her.

“It’s in the closet, mom.”

“It is? I thought I checked there.”

“Mom, you still didn’t give me an answer,” reminded Will.

“Oh, here it is.” Having found her coat, Joyce shoved it on and then raced back into the kitchen to say goodbye. Her brows furrowed in confusion. “About what?” Affectionately, she smoothed down Jonathan’s hair and he shoved a piece of toast into her hand.

Will watched their interaction behind sleepy eyes. “El and Hopper.”

Her puzzled expression clearly showed that she had forgotten the question already. Luckily, Jonathan came to her rescue. “He wants them to come over tonight.” He let his words dangle in the air as he curiously watched his mother’s reaction. Nancy was insistent that his mother was in love with the chief of police. If she was correct, (and she usually was) then he wasn’t sure how he felt about that yet.

“Oh, honey.” She moved to kiss the top of Will’s head and completely avoided Jonathan’s gaze. “That’s not…they’re not…” She fumbled for the right answer before finally settling on one. “It’s not a good night for that. He’s got plans.”

“A date?” suggested Jonathan.

Joyce’s hands went to her face and her eyes darted around the room. Her answer came too quickly and too forcefully. “No!”

“Just him and El,” Will said. “El wants us to come over, she said it’ll make him happy.”

Joyce’s cheeks turned crimson. She wasn’t out of touch with her feelings. Not really. They had been standing on the invisible line between friendship and a relationship for a long time. Longer than the kids even knew. But. There was her mess of a life to think about. And his. And Will. And Bob. It was all too overwhelming, so she made sure to keep the line firmly in place. Skilled at parenting, she did her best to deflect. “You and I will have a great time on our own. I’ve gotta go. I’ll pick you up after school.”

When she was gone, and Will was sulking, Jonathan nudged his arm. “What are you trying to do?”

Will pretended to be suddenly interested in his plate before looking up at his brother. “She’s just been so sad…since…” He had trouble saying the name. Joyce wasn’t the only one missing him.

Jonathan said it for him. “Bob.” 

“Yeah. Bob. She doesn’t seem as sad when Hopper’s around. And El said the same thing about him.”

It wasn’t that Jonathan didn’t notice the happiness. He did. But happiness didn’t guarantee anything. It was a life lesson that Will hadn’t learned yet. “Don’t push her.” He eventually advised. “And pick out a good movie tonight. Don’t let her sucker you into any chick movies like last time.”

“Okay,” Will lamented. He went to leave the kitchen, but Jonathan stopped him.

“Hey, we’re leaving in ten minutes.”

“Okay. I’ve gotta get something in my room,” Will called. He missed the suspicious look his brother threw his way as he raced down the hall and slammed his door shut.

There was a commotion in the station lobby that afternoon. Hopper could hear it from his office, and he was glad for the distraction. “Okay, Mrs. Jackson. I’ll see what I can do about the graffiti,” he said, as he stood up. The local medical clinic was run by Mrs. Jackson and her husband. Lately, she had been calling him for anything and everything and now, she had decided to drop by to speak to him in person.

“It’s just Miss, now,” the 40 year old replied. “Jack and I just divorced.” She stood up and then sat back down on the edge of his desk. The skirt she was wearing revealed long stocking covered legs.

Hopper’s brows furrowed. “Uh...okay.” He wasn’t immune to her flirting, but he wasn’t trying to start something. He had Eleven to think about. And Joyce. Joyce? His mind yelled. He shook his head to get her out of his thoughts, but it seemed like her voice was ringing down the hall. Thinking that he was losing it, he leaned over his desk and listened.

A moment later, he realized that he wasn’t losing his mind at all, when Joyce burst through the door. Her mouth was open, ready to speak, but the sight of him and Mrs. Jackson caused her mouth to snap shut.

“Sorry, Hop. I told her that you were busy,” chided Flo.

Hopper held up his hand and motioned for Joyce to come in. “It’s fine. Joyce, what’s wrong?” When she didn’t respond, he followed her gaze to his desk and then realized how precarious the scene must look. “Mrs. Jackson was just reporting some vandalism.” Again, he felt the need to explain himself. And again, he tried not to wonder why.

“Miss!” the woman insisted.

“Right, Miss,” Hopper corrected. He looked back at Joyce and when he noticed that she seemed to be on the verge of tears, his stomach sank. He straightened up and smoothed down his wrinkled shirt. “Joyce, this isn’t what it looks like,” he blurted, because he couldn’t stand to see that look on her face for another second.

Joyce ignored his statement and met his eyes. Her hair was windblown and tangled and her eye make-up was smeared. “I can’t find Will.” Her voice was full of disbelief, as if she couldn’t comprehend that her worst nightmare was happening again. “I went to pick him up at school and he wasn’t there.”

In two big steps, Hopper was at her side. “Come on.” Without looking back, he practically drug her out of office. Once they were in the hallway, he stared her down. “Did you ask his friends?” 

 

He was calm and still and she read it all wrong. Assuming that he was about to write her off, she immediately snapped, “of course I did! Will told Dustin that he was meeting Jonathan at the high school, but he knew that I was picking him up. I reminded him this morning.”

“Has Jonathan seen him?”

“You don’t think I checked?”

“Hey, Joyce...I’m just trying to cover all the bases here,” he defended. “Let’s go. He’s probably at home by now.” He guided her out of the station, ignoring his nosey staff as they went. Once they were in his truck, he again said, “he’s probably at home.”

Beside him, Joyce shook her head. “Jonathan’s there. He said he’d call the station if he turned up.”

Hopper’s jaw tensed. He tried to ignore the fear that gnawed at his gut. He kept his tone purposefully optimistic, for her sake. “What about Mike?”

“Nancy said that he went to see El after school.”

“Trust me, I know.” He already had his radio in his hand. When they stopped at a red light, he took the opportunity to use it call his daughter.

Beside him, Joyce listened to the short conversation. She made a pained noise when Eleven said that she didn’t know where Will was, and neither did Mike. Refusing to look at him, she stared straight ahead as tears filled her eyes.

Without asking, Hopper ventured towards her house. “We’ll check everywhere.” In concern, he kept glancing towards her, growing even more so when she wouldn’t look at him. “We’ll find him,” he insisted.

An hour, then two, then three went by and they were no closer to finding Will. Joyce and Hopper checked the house. The woods. Castle Byers. Jonathan and Nancy checked the old junkyard and the arcade. They talked to Dustin, Lucas, Max, and even Steve, and still had no answers. As night fell and the house was covered in darkness, Hopper went from room to room and flipped all the lights on.

He was concerned about Will. But, he was also concerned about his mother, who was hyperventilating on the living room couch. Jonathan was at her side, trying to calm her down, but nothing worked. Her mind was flooded with traumatic memories.

“I don’t know what else to do,” Jonathan said, desperately, as Hopper kneeled down in front of her.

“It’s okay, kid.” Hopper took her hands and held them still. “I’ve got it.”

Jonathan’s eyes were watery. “We have to do something. We can’t just sit here.”

As Hopper coaxed Joyce into breathing more steadily, Nancy and Jonathan bickered over what they could do. Eventually, Jonathan stood up and kicked at the coffee table. “I knew something was up. He was acting all weird this morning.”

“What kind of weird?” asked Nancy.

“I don’t know. Just. Weird.” The teenager paced around the living room trying to remember all the details. “He kept talking about them…” He pointed to his mother and Hopper. “And El. Even on the ride to school he wouldn’t stop. He also made me late, because he was talking to her on that stupid radio before we left!”

“Woah,” snapped Hopper as he stood up. “Talking to who?”

Jonathan shrugged in annoyance. “El. I had to threaten him just to get him out of the house.”

“You. Didn’t. Tell. Us. That.” Hopper enunciated every word as if Jonathan would have trouble understanding.

The teenager’s brows furrowed in anger. “What does it matter?” he yelled.

Hopper ignored him as he threw his coat on. “It matters.” Remembering the conversation with Eleven from earlier, and knowing that Will had spoken to her, made all the pieces fit together. “Stay here. In case I’m wrong.”

Jonathan instantly argued, “no! I should be out there looking.”

“I know where he is!” Hopper said, his voice booming through the house. “Just trust me, okay?” He held his hands out in front of him to get his point across. “Joyce.” His tone softened as he called her name. “Come on.”

“Where?” She had trouble getting up so he held out his hand.

“He’s at the cabin.”

Her forehead creased beneath her bangs. “But El…”

“She lied!” he snapped. The relief that he had experienced when realizing that Will was probably safe had all but vanished when he realized what the kids had done. “They all lied, dammit.” Trusting him, she followed him out.

The ride to the cabin was silent. Joyce was an emotional mess and he wanted to comfort her, he really did, but his seething anger was about to boil over and he was too afraid that it would burn her in the process. His hands were white against the steering wheel as he haphazardly parked the truck. The pair made their way to the cabin and they were almost there, when they found Mike fleeing with his bike.

Unfortunately for Mike, he was the first to get the brunt of Hopper’s anger. “Is he here?” Joyce didn’t wait for answer. She darted through the thick trees towards the cabin, already calling out Will’s name.

Distracted, Mike didn’t answer right away, and Hopper’s hands went to his shoulders. “IS WILL HERE?” When the boy’s eyes widened, he let go.

“Yeah,” answered Mike. He held up his hands in defense. “I told them it was a stupid idea! I told Will to go home! They wouldn’t listen.”

Hopper let out a low sigh as he glanced at the cabin. “None of you kids ever listen.” In complete frustration, he yanked his hat off. “I told you to leave here before it got dark.

Mike had nothing to say to that, so he played with the handle bars of his bike instead of looking at the police chief. Hopper pressed his fingers to his forehead. “Nancy’s at Jonathan’s. Go inside and call them. They can pick you up. It’s too late to be riding home.”

Surprised at the suggestion, the boy looked up, but then noticed that the man was ready to explode, so he opted not to say anything else. He ran for the cabin while Hopper reached for a cigarette.

Hopper stayed outside for a long time. He had one cigarette. Then another. Nothing seemed to simmer his raging anger. He didn’t know which child to be angrier at. His own. Or Joyce’s. Jonathan and Nancy came to pick up Mike, and still, he stayed outside. Eventually, when his fingers were numb from the bitter night air, he stomped towards the cabin.

Inside, he found Will and Eleven on the couch, with Joyce in between them. From the looks of their sour expressions, she had already given them a stern talking to, but that wasn’t enough for him. He couldn’t fathom why they would intentionally cause such havoc. He needed answers.

He started yelling before the warmth of the cabin had even hit him. “What the hell is wrong with you two?” He stalked towards the couch and glared first at Eleven, and then at Will. His gaze then turned back to his daughter. “You lied to me!”

“I didn’t mean to.” She sounded remorseful, but he was too angry for it to calm him.

“Bullshit. And you!” He pointed towards Will. “How could you do this to your mother?”

Will had a stricken look on his face. “I’m sorry,” he insisted.

Hopper threw his hands into the air. “You’re sorry? We were worried sick about you. We looked everywhere for you. What were you thinking?”

To his credit, the boy didn’t go cowering to his mother’s side. He faced Hopper with guilt, but not fear. “I thought…I thought that you’d know where to find me.”

“How would we know?”

“I don’t know.”

Feeling more frustrated than ever, Hopper groaned and rubbed his eyes. “El, you have two seconds to explain this or you won’t be seeing Mike for a week.”

“A week!” came her outraged reply.

“Make that two!” 

Clearly upset, Eleven crossed her arms. Anger was slowly building inside of her. The air crackled with tension. “We wanted to be together, tonight! All of us. I told you!”

“And what did I tell you?” came his deadly reply. “You never listen!”

“You make each other happy!” She flew off the couch and moved towards her bedroom, but he wasn’t about to let her run away.

“You leave this room and you won’t be seeing Mike for a long time. I mean it, El!”  
In a flash, her angry eyes were upon him. “No!” she shrieked.

Feeling brave, Will stood up and stepped in between them. “It’s my fault,” he insisted, his voice cracking slightly. “I knew that my mom would go to you for help. It was my idea.”

Confused by the new information, Hopper blinked hard. He stared between the two kids for a long time and then set his jaw into a firm line. The extreme anger was gone from his voice, but it was replaced by disappointment. “And then what?” His question left the kids speechless. “You didn’t think that far ahead, did you? You just thought that your mom and I, after searching for you all night, would just sit here and watch movies? Does that make any sense to you?” He grabbed Will’s shoulders. “Don’t you ever do that to her again, do you understand me?” Will could only nod as his head dipped down in shame. Hopper glanced over at Eleven and snapped, “friends don’t lie!”

A comforting hand was suddenly between his shoulder blades and he turned around to find Joyce staring up at him. She looked as bad as he felt. “I took care of it,” she said. The fierce determination was back in her eyes. He shot her a questioning look, and she nodded. “They’re both grounded.”

“They are?” 

Joyce nodded. “For a month.” Hopper’s lips parted into an impressed smile and she added,“Will’s coming right home after school. Every day. And Jonathan’s going to bring El over, too.” There was no fear that she had overstepped her boundaries. “No video games. No TV. They can each have one friend over, once a week, and that’s it.”

Hopper glanced at both kids and noticed that they looked completely miserable. After what they had done, their misery made him oddly happy.

“Can you even ground her?” Will wondered. He looked at his mother, but it was Hopper who answered, without hesitation.

“She sure can.” He pointed between the kids, “So, I guess this night didn’t turn out how you planned, huh?” Hopper motioned towards Joyce, and then towards the table where a pile of candy was sitting. “Guess we’ll have to eat the candy ourselves, since grounded kids don’t get candy.”

Will and Eleven shared a somber look and then watched as their parents dug into the treats without them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because who doesn't love a good parent trap? This was my favorite one to write so far. I just love the idea of these kids creating havoc with their two idiot in love parents.
> 
> Thank you for all your supportive comments and kindness. I'm so glad that you guys are enjoying this.


	8. The Eighth Night

By the third week of Will and Eleven’s punishment, an evening routine was firmly in place. Every weeknight, Hopper would pick Eleven up at Joyce’s house after his shift. He had never asked to stay for dinner. Joyce hadn’t invited him to stay for dinner, either. It just…eventually happened, the way that so many things do. In the beginning, he would arrive late and eat left overs, but at some point, dinner got later and later until it wasn’t even served until he walked in the door. He rarely ran late these days, and when he did, he made sure to call. In the span of three weeks, him and Eleven had somehow been absorbed into the Byers’ household for a few hours every night.

During one of their last dinners before their punishment was lifted, Will and Eleven were bickering loudly. They got along well, but being cooped up for a month together brought out the worst in them.

Suddenly, Will let out a yelp when his pizza began hovering in midair. He reached for it, but it avoided his grasp. Glaring at Eleven, who was sitting across the table, he balled up a napkin and threw it at her. Instead of hitting her, it hit Jonathan and the teenager instantly threw it back.

Two quick seconds went by before Hopper cut through the chaos. “Hey. Knock it off.” He didn’t have to raise his voice. His stern tone was enough. Will had his arm up to throw the napkin, but abruptly changed his mind, which earned him a nod from Hopper.

Jonathan looked first to his mother and then to Hopper. He had an anti-authoritative response ready to go, but simply let out a sigh, instead. Will’s Valentine’s Day ‘disappearance’ had caused Joyce’s nightmares to return, with a vengeance, and he was trying not to make things harder on her. 

“El…” warned Hopper. He glanced up at the slice of pizza that was still hanging in the air. Showing off her attitude, she rolled her eyes and then let the pizza drop. It splattered onto Will’s plate and splashed sauce all over the table.

“Ew!” came Will’s disgusted reply. He was going to retaliate, but then his gaze met Hopper’s once again. He crossed his arms, but did not disobey the man.

Sensing that her sons were uneasy, Joyce jumped in to change the subject. “Will, what do you wanna do for your birthday?” 

Will’s response was quick and excited, “camping.”

“Sweetheart, I’m sorry,” came his mother’s sad response. “It’s just not gonna work this year.”

The boy already knew that. He had been pleading with her for weeks to let him and his friends go camping for his birthday. Still, it didn’t make him any less disappointed. He looked down at his plate and sighed. “Jonathan said he’d take us.”

Joyce, who had barely touched her dinner, pushed her plate away. Her hands made frantic motions over her wrists. Her anxiety was getting the best of her and she hated herself for it. “It’s too dangerous.”

“The Gate’s closed,” Argued Will. His tone lacked any real assertiveness.

Normally, Jonathan would press the issue with his mother and get her to change her mind, but seeing her in the midst of her tormented thoughts, he took her side. “What about bowling?” he suggested.

“Nah.”

“The movies?”

“No.”

“The arcade?”

Will lost patience with his brother and his voice rose. “I just want to camp! Like everyone else gets to!”

Joyce was getting choked up at the idea that she was responsible for him not feeling normal. “I’m sorry, baby…” She stood up, eager to flee, but Hopper’s hand clamped down on her wrist, keeping her in place. With a questioning look, she sat back down and glanced between him and her son.

“Joyce, hear me out….” Hopper started. Thinking that he was going to turn on her, her eyes flashed with betrayal before she yanked her hand away from his. “Just listen,” he insisted. She refused to look at him, but stayed rooted in place. When he was sure that she wouldn’t flee, he continued, “what if they camp out around my cabin? I can be there, inside, and then they can do their thing outside.” 

Concerned that he had majorly over stepped his boundaries, his stomach twisted into nervous knots as he waited for her to acknowledge him. The kids seemed to be waiting for the same thing, because they too, remained silent. The silence, was killing him. Another woman would flip out...accuse him of making her the bad guy...or worse, yell at him for parenting a child that wasn’t his…but Joyce wasn’t like other women, and he had no idea what kind of response to expect.

Hopper watched as she played with her fingernails, then her cup, then her plate. When she finally looked at him, with an unreadable expression, he grew more nervous. “You can come over, if you want. We can pretend like we’re not checking on them every hour.”

“Hopper…” she started, then closed her eyes with a sigh. When she opened them, a ghost of a smile was etched across her lips. “Are you sure you know what you’re getting yourself into?”

Her response startled him, so instead of responding, he could do nothing but stare at her with a goofy expression on his face. Will was the first to ask, “Mom, is that a yes? I can camp there?” Pleased to see the excitement back in his eyes, Joyce nodded and soon, Will was up and wrapping his arms around her. “Wait.” He pulled back and looked at Hopper. “Can El camp too?”

Still reeling from Joyce and the fact that he had just decided to supervise a teenage birthday party in the woods, Hopper was quick to respond. “Sure, kid.”

“I don’t know how to ca…camp,” Eleven unconfidently stuttered.

Will was quick to jump to her aid. “I’ll show you! I have books in my room.” He was too excited to wait for her. He darted out of the kitchen and she followed a few minutes later. When Joyce left to go to the bathroom, a tense silence fell between the two remaining people.

“I could have taken him camping, you know.” Jonathan said. His tone was even, but his eyes were sharp with annoyance as they stared across the table.

Hopper reached into his pocket for a cigarette as he noncommittally responded, “never said you couldn’t.” Without lighting it, he let it dangle between his fingers.

Tilting his head to make sure that his mother wasn’t coming back, the teenager then snapped, “she hasn’t been well, lately...she isn’t sleeping.” He looked Hopper up and down before darting his eyes to the floor. “I didn’t want to upset her, with the whole camping thing.” Feeling oddly jealous of the closeness that Hopper and his mother shared, he stood up and his light brown hair fell close to his eyes. “But, I guess she doesn’t need me looking out for her anymore.”

Hopper too, stood up, and moved towards him on his way out the back door. “Not true,” came his slightly affectionate response. He lightly punched Jonathan’s shoulder and then added, “but you don’t have to do it alone.”

A lot of contradictory thoughts bubbled to the surface of Jonathan’s mind all at once as he met his eyes. Hopper had been there, through it all, but would he really stick around? He didn’t dare let those thoughts spill out of his mouth.

Hopper bristled under the teenager’s gaze and lightened the mood. “Hey, you’re more than welcome to help chaperone camping.” He put the cigarette between his lips and let out a deep chuckle. “It sounds like torture.” He zipped his coat and caught a slight smirk from him. “Tell you mom I’m headed out for a smoke, will ya?” 

“Sure.” Still unable to get a handle on his thoughts, Jonathan watched him go.  
***

“Joyce.” warned Hopper, “Relax.”

While the kids camped about a hundred yards away from the cabin, Hopper sat on his threadbare couch, watching as Joyce made anxious movements around the small space. At first she cleaned. Then she folded some of Eleven’s freshly washed clothes, then, she succumbed to just flat out pacing.

“I can’t,” came her dejected voice. Then, growing defensive, she huffed, “it’s not like I’m doing it on purpose.”

“Hey. I get it.” Hopper’s long arm motioned for her to sit down. “But they’re gonna be okay.”

With a frustrated sigh, Joyce’s bangs flew from her forehead. Beneath dark eye lashes, she glanced his way and then gave in and sat down beside him. Her hands moved under her thighs to keep them still. She stared straight ahead at the TV before saying, “I just hate this.” Lazily, his right arm draped across her shoulders and she instantly felt heat pool into her gut. It wasn’t an abnormal feeling, it happened often when he touched her, and it was becoming harder and harder to ignore. “It wasn’t like this hard before…”

Her voice trailed off, but it was okay. She didn’t have to finish for him to understand. “Steve’s out there with them.” With an incredulous face, she turned to face him and he couldn’t help but laugh. “Makes no damn sense, I know.”

“So, you’re saying he’s a good babysitter?” 

“I dunno who's babysitting who.” He teased. 

Joyce’s hand went to her cheek and hid her smile. “At least Jonathan will be by after his shift.” 

“See? They’re gonna be fine.” He pointed towards the TV, “Now let’s pretend like we’re watching at least.” 

Suddenly feeling helpless, like she was capable of agreeing to anything he said, Joyce nodded and took some deep breaths. Eventually, her body relaxed slightly and she slid closer to him so that her body was nearly engulfed by his chest. The line between them was growing smaller and smaller and she wondered if she could ever let it disappear altogether.


	9. The Ninth Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Angst Alert*-you didn't think that this was gonna be all fluff, did you? ;)

Joyce spotted Hopper as soon as she walked into the smoky bar. There weren’t many people milling around on a Tuesday night. He was still dressed in his cop uniform, and that made him even easier to find. 

“Flo said you’d be here.” Joyce let her disappointment come through in her tone as she added, “She knows you well.” Without invitation, she sat down at the bar beside him and laid her hands out on the smooth bar top. 

He acknowledged her presence with a swift reply. “Flo’s got a big mouth.” 

“I haven’t heard from you in a while. I was worried.” 

Hopper let out a bitter chuckle at that. “The kid’s with her aunt for a few days.” Keeping his eyes downcast, he continued, “in case you’re worried that I’m neglecting her.” 

Joyce let out a tiny sigh as she observed his depressed form. His forehead was chiseled with weary lines. She fought the urge to smooth them with her fingertips. “She’s…she’s not the one I’m worried about.”

After a large swig from a glass full of amber colored liquid, he turned to face her. “You’ve got more important things to worry about than me.”

It was late April and the weather was still flip flopping back and forth between cold and hot. Tonight, her hunter green jacket was too much for the temperature, so she shrugged it off and let it fall into a heap in her lap. “I’ll be the judge of that.” The bartender offered her a drink, but she turned it down with a wave of her hand.

With a loud thump, Hopper’s own drink landed on the bar. Her observant gaze spied three other glasses and she looked at him with brows that were furrowed into thick lines of concern.

“Don’t look at me like that, Joyce.” His voice was edgy. And raw.

“Like what?”

“Like you feel sorry for me.”

Instead of changing her expression, she kept it and scooted closer so that her voice wouldn’t be overheard. “What’s going on, Hop?” Everyone talked in Hawkins. She had heard from numerous people over the past year or so that the chief of police no longer frequented the local bar. His presence there, along with his lack of presence in her life recently, worried her. 

Knowing that she wasn’t going to let him get away without answering, he silently pulled an old photo out of his pocket and slid it towards her. He couldn’t watch her study it. He couldn’t see the pitying look that he knew would accompany it, so he shoved his head into his hands. “It’s the anniversary,” he all but whispered. “Of her...” barely able to get the word out, he choked, “death.” 

Joyce looked at the blonde little girl in the photo for a long time and sighed. With gentle fingers, she traced a line over Sara’s mouth. “She has your smile.” She refused to speak about her in past tense. “And your eyes.” 

Her response wasn’t what he expected, and Hopper dropped his hands from his head to look over at her. “Yeah.” His voice broke a bit and he cleared his throat. “She does.”

They got lost in their silent stare for awhile, and then Joyce slid the picture back to him and squeezed his arm. He braced himself for a speech about how sorry she was, but it never came. “Come on. I’m driving you home.”

His drunk, foggy brain didn’t respond at first. When she stood up, still with her hand on his arm, he eventually shook his head. “No. I’m gonna stay here.”

“No, you’re not.” She made eye contact with the bartender. “Isn’t that right, John?”

Hopper looked at John with an incredulous expression. “Don’t listen to her.”

John glanced between the pair in confusion. He was clearly trying to decide if the extra money of more drinks was worth the wrath of Joyce Byers. It didn’t take him long to decide that it wasn’t. “Sorry, big guy.” 

“You’re gonna listen to her over the chief of police?” boomed Hopper. 

The older man held up his hands and shrugged. “Sorry chief. I used to watch her drag Lonnie’s ass out of here and it ain’t a pretty sight.”

The mention of Lonnie distracted Hopper and it allowed Joyce to yank him hard on the arm. Her grip was so forceful that he nearly flew off the bar stool. 

“Jesus, Joyce!”. 

Her brown eyes flashed with determination. “You’re not staying here.” 

He stared her down with a miserable look before finally giving up. In frustration, he dug out his wallet and tossed some cash onto the bar. “Women,” he lamented to John, who shot him a knowing wink. 

Hopper allowed Joyce to lead him out of the bar and into her car. When she turned to head out towards his cabin, he shook his head and pointed towards the opposite direction. “I’ve been staying at the trailer…while she’s gone.” It was too hard to be out there alone. Especially, today. 

The drive was done in complete silence, but luckily, it didn’t take long. When they arrived, he stumbled out of the car and retched into the bushes. She gave him his space. She had a way of always knowing exactly what he needed, and he was grateful for that.

“You need to shower,” Joyce demand, once they were inside. With her nose scrunched up in disgust. The stale smell of the bar reminded her of Lonnie, and it brought up all sorts of feelings that she would rather not think about. 

“I’m good.” he grumbled, but then he saw her hands move to her hips and he shook his head. “Fine.” He scrubbed at his face and then stomped off like a child. When she heard the bathroom door slam shut, she rolled her eyes and moved to make a pot of coffee. 

***

“I’m here you know, if you wanna talk,” she reminded him later. Fresh out of the shower, he smelled better, and with some coffee and water, he was slightly sober, too. 

Unfortunately, his mood was no better. They were sitting on his couch. Her body was turned towards him, but his was stiff and facing forwards. “My girl’s gone.” His big hands were clamped together in his lap as if he were struggling to hold onto something. “There’s nothing else to say.” 

Joyce mulled over that for several minutes. He was partially right. What could they possible discuss? What words of comfort could she even offer? Her son came back. His daughter didn’t. Still, he had been there for her and she wasn’t going to let him suffer alone. “Do you blame yourself?” 

Startled by her question, his head snapped towards her. Incredulously, he blurted, “what?” 

“Do you blame yourself?” 

Their emotional gazes locked and battled. He shook his head in anger, hell bent on telling her how wrong she was, how irrational she was being, how little she knew him, but then her small hand was on his, and he was suddenly overcome with a wave of agony. He did blame himself. For all of it. He couldn’t save his daughter. He couldn’t save his marriage. He could barely save himself. Tears sprang to his eyes. At first he was embarrassed and hurriedly swept them away with his hands. Soon, however, the tears fell faster and faster and then he gave up. Letting go of the embarrassment, he put his head in his hands, leaned his elbows on his knees, and broke down into sobs. 

The sight of his broken form, so contradictory to the strong exterior he usually presented, made her chest ache. Her small body was no match for his, but she pulled at his arm anyway until he sat up straighter. The new position allowed her to wrap her arms around him. He hesitated at first, but she was insistent, and soon, his arms were squeezing her tight, like a lifeline. He was crushing her, but she didn’t care. She let him hold on and cry until he had no more tears left to fall. 

It was hard to know how long they stayed like that. Time seemed to stand still. “I’m a mess.” came his eventual self-deprecating statement. His throat was burning from crying and his nose was stuffy. 

Joyce pulled slightly away so that she could look at him. “So am I.” 

His lips curled into a small smile at that. “No. You’re not.” He found himself unable to look away from her. He watched as her eyes went through several emotions as she took in the intensity of his gaze. He smiled sheepishly and she grew embarrassed and glanced away for a second. Not long, though. With renewed determination her eyes were back on his and her hands moved to his cheeks. 

“Hop…” 

Her face was close to his. He could feel her breath against his face and he whispered her name before crashing his lips against hers. The feel of his lips on hers ignited every nerve ending in her body. She felt alive. And free. She eagerly returned the kiss and encouraged his tongue as it dueled with hers. Suddenly all the guilt and grief that she had been carrying around fled her mind and all she wanted to do was give herself completely to him. 

Hopper’s hands roamed around her back and then he groaned as she crawled into his lap. Their lips never stopped, as his hands relearned her body. Unexpectedly, they both moved forward at the same time and their front teeth connected. “Sorry,” he said, but she simply giggled in return and brought her finger tips to her teeth. 

He came out of the lust filled haze before she did. As her lips moved to his neck, eager to finish what they started, his broken mind tormented him with worries. He would hurt her, the way her hurt everyone in his life. An overwhelming feeling of dread gripped his chest as panic filled him. “Joyce, I can’t.” His statement came out more gruff than he intended and he instantly felt guilty when her body stilled and her shocked eyes moved to his. 

When her confused thoughts cleared, her face fell as she desperately tried to understand what was going on. She had been certain that they were on the same page. The realization that they weren’t made her stomach drop. “Oh.” All confidence gone, she fumbled to get up and almost tripped over his legs in the process. 

Helpless to explain away his feelings, he reached out to her, but she was already out of his grasp and he let his hand fall to his lap. “Joyce. Please,” he pleaded. When he realized that he didn’t know what he was pleading for, he let his mouth close. He wasn’t the same person that he was in high school. She had no idea how destructive he could be and he didn’t know how to tell her. 

She refused to look at him as she threw her jacket on. “I’m gonna go.” Tears were already spilling down her cheeks. Embarrassed at the rejection, and desperate for him not to see her cry, she practically dashed out of the trailer and fled to the safety of her car. 

He didn’t have his truck. She knew that, but drove away anyway. She couldn’t listen to him tell her that he would never want someone like her. Someone...so damaged.


	10. The Tenth Night

It had been three weeks since the ‘mistake’ (as Joyce was calling it in her head) and since then, she had not seen Hopper. Or…maybe he had not seen her. It was impossible to know who was avoiding who. Before Will, and the lab, and Eleven, the time apart wouldn’t be out of the ordinary. But now, after everything, Jim Hopper was such a huge part of her life that she felt almost incomplete without him around. Day after day she thought about him, and day after day her mind taunted her with menacing thoughts about how a man like him wouldn’t want to be romantically involved with someone as damaged as her.

She wasn’t always this way: neurotic, over protective, anxious to the core. Her teenager years spent with Hopper had been fun, happy, and relaxing. However, that didn’t last. Lonnie happened. Graduation happened. Two kids happened and now, she barely even recognized herself. She couldn’t blame Hopper for not recognizing her either.

Standing at the sink, she was reminded of her inadequacy as Will hounded her with questions. Why didn’t Hopper come for dinner anymore? Why did she make Jonathan drive him to visit El? Why was Hopper acting weird around him? The questions kept coming and coming. Each one grew harder and harder for her to answer. It didn’t take long for Jonathan to join in. More perceptive than his brother, he cut right to the chase, curiously asking if they were fighting, or worse no longer friends.

It wasn’t any one question or any one thing that set Joyce off. It was a whole avalanche of things that came crashing down at once. Before she knew it, her anxiety was crushing her, leaving her unable to breathe. The room felt small. The house felt hot. With the walls caving in around her, she needed to flee, and fast. She was out the door and into the yard before Jonathan’s yells got through to her.

“Mom! What are you doing?”

Her shaking body came to a sudden halt. “Go back inside!” Her hands made awkward motions as she pointed towards the house. “I just need some air.”

Frightened by her behavior, Jonathan reached out for her. “Don’t do this, mom. Just, stay here.” He usually knew how to calm her down, however, nothing had been working lately.

She was staring right at him, but it was as if she didn’t see him. Not really. Her body shuddered before she stepped backwards. “I’m just gonna walk. I’ll be back.”

“Mom!” he called, as he watched her turn and head towards the woods. “It’s almost dark. This is crazy!” Angrily, he kicked at the ground. “Mom!” His eyes narrowed as he watched her go. “Fine!” he called out, before storming back inside.

“Where’d she go?” wondered Will. He was still in the kitchen, but now his wide eyes were peering out the back door as he watched his mother disappear into the overgrown tree line.

Jonathan snapped, “I don’t know.” He grabbed his camera and shoved some accessories into his bag. “You’ll be fine here till she gets back, right?”

Will regarded his brother with an incredulous look. “I’m not a baby.”

Jonathan shrugged. “Just checking. Nancy’s helping me finish my art project. I’ll be back later.”

Will watched Jonathan leave and then listened as his car peeled out of the driveway. He was fine being alone. He always had been and he wasn’t going to let what had happened ruin that.

The boy quickly grew lost in his comic book. He drew a few pages and then looked over his work, only to go back and draw on the same pages again. When his hand ached from the constant motion, he took a break, only to realize that the house was almost dark. At some point, he had gotten so caught up that he had completely missed the sun setting.

Glancing at the clock, his stomach rumbled when he noticed that it was well past dinner time. “Mom?” he called out. Nothing but eerie silence filled the house, the kind of silence that caused the hairs on the back of his neck to stand straight up. On alert, he searched the house room by room and then did the same thing outside. Suddenly, he didn’t feel very brave anymore. Growing more and more nervous, but too proud to admit that he was afraid, he flipped on all the lights and then sat down to wait for his mother.

Two Hours Later

As Hopper drove through town, he feigned annoyance at the girl beside him. “El, stop changing the channel!”

Giddy from her first trip to the ice cream parlor, Eleven shot him a mischievous grin and then focused on the radio. With her mind, she changed the channel until a song she liked was blasting through the speakers.

Soon he was humming along to the catchy pop song and when she caught him, he smirked. “Well, I don’t hate it.”

Enjoying the game, Eleven kept changing the channel until the CB radio jumped to life and ruined her focus. “Hopper. Come in Hop.”

Hopper let out a groan and debated on ignoring Flo. As if the woman could read his mind, she called again. “I know you’re there.” Still debating on whether it was worth it or not, the decision was made for him when she added, “I’ve got a 911 for Joyce Byers.”

She didn’t have to wait long. His hand fumbled for the speaker so fast that he nearly dropped it. “I’m here, Flo.” He glanced over at Eleven and noticed that she was hunched forward, listening just as intently as he was.

“Funny how Joyce gets your attention,” Flo shot back.

Hopper wasn’t in the mood for jokes. He had been unable to get Joyce off of his mind for weeks. Now, a radio call about her, had him completely rattled. “You said, 911. What’s going on?”

Flo didn’t beat around the bush. “The Byers kid called in looking for you. Said his mom went out for a walk…never came back.”

Hopper sucked in a breath. “Jonathan?”

“No, Will. He’s at his house.”

His exhale was long and slow. “I’m headed there now.” Tossing the speaker away, Hopper gave Eleven some warning before haphazardly turning his truck in the opposite direction.

Eleven’s hand reached for his arm. “She’s not gone.”

His stoic gaze met hers. He appreciated her optimism, but he still turned on his lights and sirens so that he could drive even faster.

***

Finding nothing out of the ordinary at the house, Hopper turned his attention to Will. “You don’t know why she left?”

“She got upset…and then just, ran out.” Despite all that he had been through, despite the fact that his mother was seemingly missing, the boy kept his emotions in check, which impressed the chief.

“What was she upset about?” Hopper’s tone was intentionally flat. If he didn’t show any signs of worry, then Will wouldn’t worry. If Will didn’t worry, then he could pretend like everything was fine…for just a little bit longer.

“I don’t know.”

“Did something happen?”

“No.”

Growing impatient, Hopper sighed. “Did something scare her? Did she see something out there?”

“No, she just left.”

Will’s voice was soft. The chief’s wasn’t. “And Jonathan followed her?”

Uncomfortable with the interrogation, the boy glanced shyly around the room. His eyes eventually landed on Eleven and stayed there as he said, “they were arguing. He didn’t want her to go. She said she was going for a walk.”

“Nobody walks for three hours.” Hopper trained his observant eyes on Will and then around the room. “And it’s raining, now.” He gestured towards the windows which were now covered with thick rain drops. “She wouldn’t walk in the rain.” It was getting harder for him to maintain his calm demeanor. Something was wrong. His brain was screaming at him to figure out what it was. When he turned to his daughter, he noticed that she was staring at Will. Suddenly angry, he bit out, “this isn’t another stupid plan, is it?”

Eleven, who was sitting on the couch with her feet pulled under her body, furrowed her brows. “What?”

Hopper looked at Will. “You guys aren’t just trying to get me over here to see your mom, are you?” Deep down, he knew that the kids weren’t responsible for this. This felt different. This felt dire in a way that terrified him, but he had to check anyway.

Will’s face twisted in confusion. “Why would we do that?”

“Beats me! You did it last time.”

Growing flustered, Will stuttered, “No! I swear.” Then, his bright eyes went dark with betrayal. “You don’t believe me?”

Seeing Joyce’s determination mirrored in her son’s features grounded him. He pinched at his nose and tried to get his thoughts in order. “I believe you, buddy.” He squeezed Will’s shoulder. “Listen, I’m gonna find her.” He tried to shove his fears aside for the kids.

At some point, Eleven had quietly wandered to his side and he jumped a little when she asked, “should I look for her?” The girl pointed to the radio that was sitting on the table.

“If she can find me, she can find my mom,” added Will.

The idea wasn’t farfetched, but Hopper was quick to shake his head. “No, I’m gonna go look for her. You two stay here and wait for Jonathan.”

“I can find her,” insisted the girl.

Hopper gathered his hat and jacket. “Save your strength.” When she stuck her chin out in defiance, he set his jaw. “I mean it, El! I don’t know what’s going on yet, but we may need it.” There was no point in lying to the kids, so he didn’t bother. “Just stay here. And don’t be stupid. Got it?” He waited until both Will and Eleven had begrudgingly agreed before leaving.

Later, after searching the woods near the house, and then searching again with Jonathan, Hopper sped down the dark road in his truck and officially began to panic. The kids were at the house, and he was glad for it, because he was unable to keep his fears at bay.

With shaking fingers, he flipped his high beams on to illuminate the foliage on the side of the road. Even with the bright lights, visibility was difficult. The rain hadn’t stopped. It had remained persistent and steady all night. Soaked to the bone, Hopper wasn’t even sure what he was doing out there. He had no evidence to go off of. But he had to do something, if he didn’t, he would have to come to terms with the fact that Joyce Byers was indeed missing, and that was something he flat out wasn’t ready to do.

He was almost to the end of the road. It dead-ended at the closed up lab. He was about to give up and turn around when he caught sight of her on the left side of the road. Thinking he was seeing things, he blinked hard, and then opened his eyes to see that she was indeed real. Slamming on the breaks, he didn’t bother to turn the truck off as he got out.

“Joyce, are you okay?” She was completely soaked and sitting on the ground. She held her hand up to block out the bright headlights. He didn’t give her a chance to answer before he was at her side, checking her over. “What happened?” The spring air was warm, but the rain was cold. She was shivering, so he tore off his jacket and wrapped it around her shoulders.

  
Joyce gripped her left foot and kept her head down. “I must have walked too far, and then I twisted my ankle on some rocks.”

  
“Jesus,” he mumbled. He was relieved, but adrenaline was still coursing through his body and he couldn’t relax. “Do you think it’s broken?”

  
She looked up at him then, and he could see tears mixed in with the rain. “Maybe. I can’t really walk on it. I didn’t want to stay…in there…” Her fingers motioned towards the woods that surrounded the lab.  
Hopper let out a shuddering breath as he glanced around at their eerie surroundings. “I’ll carry you to the car.”

  
“I can do it,” she protested, but he was already lifting her into the air.

  
“Joyce, you’re freezing and your kids are freaking out,” he snapped, as he effortlessly carried her. “Now shut up and get in the damn car.” To his surprise, she didn’t continue to fight him on it. When they were both in the warm, dry car, his tense body relaxed a bit. She was still shaking and crying. The sight made his chest feel tight. “We should get that ankle checked out. We can call the kids from the hospital.” She didn’t respond and he found himself not knowing what else to say. With the adrenaline wearing off, for both of them, the tension of the past few weeks began to hang thick in the air and it grew heavier and heavier on the silent drive to the hospital.  
***  
Hopper’s grip was tight on the steering wheel. His fingers were white from the constant squeezing. Every so often, he would glance over at Joyce, only to find that she had her face turned towards the window. They had driven to the hospital in silence. They had waited in the waiting room in silence. She was examined in silence. And now, on the way home, it was silent again. She was shutting him out, completely, and he couldn’t take it anymore.

  
“So, we’re just gonna pretend that this never happened?” His sharp tone got her attention. Her brows furrowed in confusion, but she didn’t speak and it made him angry. “You ran off, Joyce. You broke your ankle. I had to come rescue you on the side of the damn road.”

  
Embarrassed, she glanced down at her walking cast. The crutches that went along with it were in the back. “It’s barely a fracture,” she argued. “There’s nothing to talk about.”

  
The inside of the truck was thrumming with dangerous electricity. There was a storm brewing between them. It was a long time coming, and nothing was going to stop it. Hopper’s jaw clenched and he ground out, “okay.” Except it wasn’t okay. Not at all and he couldn’t hold it in. “You scared the shit out of your kids, Joyce.” Trying to keep his eyes on the road, he dared another glance in her direction and noticed that her eyes were fixed on him, “you scared the shit out of me!”

  
She didn’t appreciate being disciplined, like a child, and she let him know it with a vigorous shake of her head. Throwing his own words back at him, she snapped, “I didn’t run off. I went for a walk. And I’m sorry if my clumsiness ruined your plans for the night.”

  
He let his own tone rise to meet hers. “My plans? I thought you were gone, Joyce! I thought you were hurt, or dead, or taken by some fucking monster, because that’s the crazy shit that goes on around here now.”  
The rain picked up again and the wipers were barely able to keep up with the downpour. The sound of the plastic slapping against the windshield along with the pounding rain against the metal roof made her silence that followed even more palpable.

  
When she did respond, her voice was laced with anger, but also, with pain. The contrast hit him right in the gut. “Is that the chief of police talking, or you?”

  
His response was short and swift. “What?” They were pulling up to the house now. He had to pay extra close attention to the rode to avoid crashing along her dark driveway.  
“It’s not like you want, me. You’ve made that pretty clear over the past month, so if you’re hell bent on saving me because of some ‘big bad chief of police’ chip on your shoulder, you can just stop already. I don’t need it.” Joyce yanked the car door open as he pulled up in front of the house. “I don’t want it.” She got half way out of the car before she realized that she couldn’t leave without her crutches. Even with the walking cast, she wasn’t supposed to be putting pressure on her ankle.

  
Her words left him too stunned to move at first. Somehow, they had gotten completely off track. She had it all wrong. Everything. With an exasperated groan, he jumped out of the truck and retrieved her crutches. Not caring what she wanted, he followed along beside her to make sure that she didn’t fall. They hobbled past Jonathan’s car, and then Steve’s. Both Joyce and Hopper gave it a curious look before going back to ignoring each other.

  
“Looks like the Cavalry has arrived,” mumbled Hopper, as they stepped into the house, only to be overrun by teenagers. Jonathan and Will ushered Joyce to the couch while Eleven and Mike went in search of blankets. Dustin and Lucas wanted to hear the entire story, and the others went to the kitchen to fetch snacks. Overwhelmed, and feeling like an outsider, Hopper reached for a cigarette and disappeared out the front door.

  
An hour later, Hopper was surprised when Joyce joined him on the porch. The porch swing sank under their combined weight, but the rusted metal chains held strong.  
Determined to feel her out, Hopper offered a crooked smile. “Didn’t expect to see you out here.”

  
Joyce sighed in return. “I should have thanked you, for helping me tonight.” With her arms crossed tightly over her chest, she looked like a child who was trying desperately to hide from the world.  
“You don’t have to thank me.”

  
“No, I do.”

  
“Joyce…” He started to argue, but then he let out a frustrated puff of air. It wasn’t worth arguing over. “You’re welcome.”

  
The rain had finally stopped and now the air was filled with the musty smell of dirt and debris. The trees rustled and insects chirped. The kids voices could be heard chattering away inside the house, but the couple remained in an uncomfortable silence. Again.

  
Eventually, Joyce mustered up her courage and said, “please stop avoiding me.” She sat up straight and fixed her steely gaze upon his. Completely dumbstruck, he stared at her with his mouth agape, which gave her a chance to add, “what happened was a mistake, I get that, but we’re friends. Our kids are friends.” Her bottom lip trembled slightly as her confidence wavered. “I don’t want to lose that.”

  
Again, Hopper found himself unable to explain what he was feeling. His head was full of noise. Having the sense of Déjà vu, he watched as his inability to speak caused her more pain. Her eyes filled with tears as she looked away from him. With awkward movements, she tried to stand up, but the swing didn’t give her enough leverage and she let out a small sob.

  
The noise snapped something inside of him. His head cleared and suddenly, his worries and fears felt stupid. He would lose her for good if he didn’t wise up and that wasn’t a risk he was willing to take. “Joyce, you’ve got it all wrong.” She let out a bitter laugh in disbelief and continued to try to stand up. His big hands moved to her arms and held her in place. “It wasn’t a mistake.” She fought to pull away but eventually gave up as he continued, “fuck Joyce, of course I want you. I’ve always wanted you…”

  
Clearly confused, she frowned as her eyes searched his. “Then, why...?” She was desperate for him to let her in. To make her understand what he was thinking.

Hopper cleared his throat and looked away in embarrassment. “I’m scared.”

  
“Of what?” She wanted to hear him say it. For her own sanity.

  
With a dejected sigh, he shrugged. “Hurting you, mostly.” His raw gaze met hers, finally allowing her to see the truth in him. “I’m cursed,” he muttered. “Everything around me turns to shit. I don’t want that to happen to you...to us...”

  
His words trailed off as her hands came to rest on his cheeks. Her nails scratched at his freshly trimmed beard and his eyes blinked shut at the contact. “I’m scared too.” Her whisper caused his eyes to flutter open in surprise. “Maybe we can be scared together.” Fueled by the confidence that his honesty gave her, it was she who started the kiss this time and he didn’t pull away as it deepened.  
Inside the house, the kids were planning an elaborate sleepover and devising the best way to go about asking. When they had figured it out, Lucas and Justin peered out the living room windows in search of Joyce.

***  
“Woah,” gasped Lucas. “Oh my god. Gross!”

  
Dustin turned around. “Hey Will, check it out. Hopper’s sucking face with your mom.”

  
“What?” In horror, Will nudged his way in between his friends and peered out the window. Disgusted by the scene, he flew back and almost fell into Eleven. “Ew.”

  
Eleven’s hand kept him from crashing into her. “Sucking face?”

  
Mike didn’t want to see, not really, but he also didn’t want to be left out, so he chanced a glance out another window and then groaned. “They’re kissing, El.” He told her in a horrified tone.

  
The girl was more confused than horrified. “Friends don’t kiss.”

  
“Not like that,” Will assured.

  
“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god…make them stop,” Dustin exclaimed.

  
“Why are you still watching?” demanded Mike. “Gross.”

  
Nancy, Jonathan, and Steve walked into the room and stared at the group as if they were insane. “What are you guys doing?” wondered Jonathan. “What are you staring at?” He went to look, but Will grabbed his arm to stop him.

  
“Mom and Hopper are...” his cheeks flushed in embarrassment and he couldn’t finish his sentence.

  
Luckily, Mike finished for him, “making out. Trust me. You don’t wanna see.”

  
Jonathan let out a small chuckle, but then, when he realized that Mike and Will were serious, his laughter died on his lips. He made a face as he glanced towards the front door. “Thanks. Um, yeah. I really don’t.”

  
Steve whistled at Dustin and Lucas and then added, “get away from the windows you perverts.”

  
“You guys!” called Nancy. “Leave them alone.” Jonathan’s face was a giant scowl and she nudged him until he relaxed. “They deserve some happiness, don’t you think?”

  
Steve shot her an incredulous look. “But on the porch though, Nance? That’s just…” he made a disgusted face before continuing, “wrong. There’s children present!”

  
Mike rolled his eyes. “Because you’re so mature.”

  
“You’re just jealous that the chief is getting more action than you,” Lucas teased. The boys loved ganging up on Steve.

  
Jonathan was quick to interject. “Hey! That’s my mom!” Annoyed with the entire scene, he crossed his arms like a petulant child. “There’s no action happening.”

  
“Uh, she’s definitely getting action,” argued Lucas. “You didn’t see what I saw. Seriously. I wish I could unsee it.”

  
“Oh shit. Oh shit,” yelped Dustin. “Hopper saw me.” He darted away from the windows and stumbled across the room.

  
“He’s gonna lose his shit.” Lucas snapped, as he too, fled across the room.

  
All eyes drifted to the front door as it opened to reveal Hopper. His confused gaze lingered on each of them before settling on Dustin. “What’s going on in here?”

  
“Nothing!” Lucas and Dustin said, in unison.

  
Hopper’s features turned stoic. “Don’t you kids have anything better to do?”

  
Slightly intimidated, Lucas responded, “Uh…yeah. We um…definitely do.”

  
“Good,” came Hopper’s gruff tone. He was then distracted by Joyce who limped through the door. Wordlessly he helped her stay balanced on her crutches and then shut the door behind her. When Joyce realized that they were the center of attention, her head dipped shyly towards the ground.

  
Desperate to change the subject, Will went back to the reason they had been looking for her in the first place. “Mom, can they spend the night?” Eager to break the awkward silence, she readily agreed.

  
“Can El stay, too?” Mike asked, with his eyes on Hopper. “Since you and Mrs. Byers are…”

  
Hopper was quick to interrupt. “Since we’re what?” There was an amused gleam in his eyes as he silently dared the boy to finish his sentence.

  
Suddenly not courageous enough to finish his thought, Mike said, “nothing…”

  
Eleven stepped forward and glanced back and forth between the adults for a few seconds. “You were kissing.” Her abrupt statement lacked any shyness. “So, not friends?”

  
Under his daughter’s heavy stare, Hopper grew suddenly flustered. “We’re still friends.” He pursed his lips together and then hit her with an awkward smile. He didn’t know how to explain what he had only just discovered.

  
“Can we come to the wedding?” joked Dustin.

  
Eleven’s brows furrowed. “Wedding?”

  
“When you get married, you have a wedding.” Explained Mike. “It’s all this mushy stuff and then a big party.”

  
“Mom, are you marrying him?” came Will’s quiet question.

  
Jonathan gently swatted his brother’s shoulder. “Don’t be stupid. You don’t get married after one day.” He looked at his mother with a questioning gaze that instantly betrayed his confident exterior. “Right?”

  
Overwhelmed, Joyce had her mouth open in shock. “Right.” Her eyes darted towards Hopper to find that his face had drained of all color.

  
Knowing that they were losing control, he let out a nervous chuckle and then held up his hands, “Let’s just slow it down, alright?”

  
Jonathan’s response was laced with sarcasm. “Alright, _dad_.”

  
Steve then interrupted, “wait…Hopper’s your dad?” His question earned him groans and weird looks from everyone in the room.

  
“Seriously Steve? Are you shitting me right now?” snapped Dustin. “He’s just being a dick because he knows Hopper will be his step-dad soon.”

  
“Hey!” Jonathan yelled. “What the hell? You don’t know what you’re talking about!”

  
Officially losing his patience, Hopper stepped into the center of the group, “Enough!” His booming voice stopped all talk. “Whoever is staying the night, go call your parents. Whoever is leaving, get to it.” His size and status still made it easy to take charge. The room cleared out quickly, leaving only Will, Eleven, and Jonathan.

  
Hopper ran a hand over his beard and then let out a tired sigh. He looked to Joyce, and when her face brightened into a reassuring smile, he felt more confident in moving forward. Neither knew exactly what was going on, but they had agreed to work at it, whatever it was, and that was enough for now. Putting his hand on his daughter’s shoulders, he explained, “we’re more than friends, but less than married.” Hopper glanced at the boys. “Does that make sense?”

  
“No,” said Will.

  
“Not really,” added Jonathan.

  
It was Joyce who spoke up next. All traces of embarrassment were gone. “We’re gonna leave it at that, for now.” Her statement, directed at her sons, was stern and left no room for discussion. Her pleading eyes moved from her youngest to her oldest and then finally to Eleven.

  
Jonathan rolled his eyes, but didn’t argue. Will shrugged in acceptance and Eleven opted to drop the subject in favor of asking if she could sleep over. Later, when the kids were settled and fighting sleep, Hopper crawled into Joyce’s bed. In her sleepy state, her body found his and he quickly wrapped his arms around her. Finally, they slept.


	11. The Eleventh Night

On a deserted road, far from the center of town, Joyce leaned against the passenger door of her beat up Pinto. She was completely zoned out to her surroundings, until the familiar rumbling of Hopper’s truck brought her back to reality. A sly smile crept up her cheeks as she watched him walk towards her.

“Flo said you had car trouble…said it was an emergency.” His tone was suspicious as he eyed up her car. “But your car seems fine to me.”

Playfully, Joyce’s nose scrunched up as her fingers played with her right earlobe. “Did I say car trouble?”

With a wicked gleam in his blues eyes, Hopper moved to tower over her. “You know, I could have you arrested for making prank calls to the police.” 

“Is that a threat?” Her hands quickly moved to his shoulders. Soon her back was pressed even further into the side of her car as they turned into a tangle of lips and limbs.

They weren’t sneaking around. Not really. It was just fun to pretend like they were. Their tongues and hands explored until they were breathless. “Dammit, Joyce.” He practically whined. “Don’t go getting me all worked up. I have budget meetings all day.”

He was rewarded with her soft laughter. The sound ignited his pride. He was the cause of that laughter. He was making her happy and that fact caused a giant smile to cross his features.

It had been two months since their night on the porch and they weren’t exactly moving at lightning speed. Contrary to the rumors around town, they weren’t living together or even spending every night together. Instead, they were enjoying each other’s company, one day at a time. 

Joyce’s nimble fingers ran over the buttons of his short sleeved uniform. “Sorry,” she lied. The excitement of something so new hadn’t worn off. Keeping their hands off of each other was nearly impossible to do when they were actually alone.

The summer air was hot and sticky. She was dressed accordingly, in an old pair of jean shorts and a plain white t-shirt. His fingers traced patterns down her bare, pale arms before peppering her neck with light kisses.

Giggling at his ministrations, she tilted her head to give him easier access. “It’s Friday. Are you still coming over for pizza tonight?”

Still distracted by her neck, it was a few seconds before he mumbled, “wouldn’t miss it.” 

“Hey!” gasped Joyce, as his hand traveled up her shirt.

Hopper let out a low chuckle at her sudden resistance. “You started it.”

Playfully, she shoved him away. “And you don’t have time to finish it.”

As if on cue, a call on his radio echoed from his truck. In frustration, he kissed her one last time before stepping away. “Maybe the kids will pass out earlier than usual.”

“If they do, you just might get lucky,” teased Joyce. She watched him leave and then got back into her own car. Her skin tingled in the places where his lips and beard had been. Putting her hand to her face, she couldn’t help but smile. It’s all she had been doing lately.

***   
“NYU is definitely my top choice,” Jonathan said. His bright eyes looked up from the shiny college catalogue to glance at his girlfriend across the table. Around them, the usual lunch time diner rush carried on, but they were too absorbed in talk of the future to notice.

“If I get into Rutgers then we can take the train to see each other,” Nancy replied. She had her own catalogue in front of her, along with a few others. Her future plans were a lot less concrete than his.

“Or you can try NYU. We could get an apartment or something.”

Sitting the catalogue down, Nancy sent him a wistful smile. Though they would enter their final year of high school in the fall, the future still seemed like a lifetime away. It didn’t feel real. It felt like she would be trapped in Hawkins forever.

She was about to respond, but then something across the room caught her attention. She focused her gaze a pair of adults who were sitting in a booth near the windows. “Hey look, it’s Hopper.”

It was hard for Jonathan to peel his eyes of the pages in front of him. When he did, he followed her gaze across the room. “Shit,” he mumbled. Slumping down into his seat, he then ducked his head down. “I was supposed to pick up Will at AV Camp, but I let him walk to your house instead. He’s totally gonna rat me out.”

“Why would he do that?” While her boyfriend hid, Nancy studied the chief with interest. He wasn’t alone. He was sitting across from a blonde haired woman who looked about his age. 

“To get on my mom’s good side.”

Nancy rolled her eyes. “Don’t be stupid. He’s obviously already on her good side.” Jonathan looked up at her with a frown and she met his eyes and stuck out her tongue before returning her gaze to Hopper. “Who’s he with?”

Her question was laced with suspicion. It instantly put Jonathan on alert. Forgetting about being seen, he turned to get a better look. “I don’t know… I’ve never seen her before.”

They watched as the woman reached across the table. Without hesitation, Hopper’s hands reached out to join hers. 

“Um, isn’t he still dating your mom?”

Jonathan’s jaw tensed as he bit out, “yeah. He is.”

The pair watched as Hopper leaned across the table. They were too far away to hear what he was saying, but whatever it was, made the woman smile. Nancy broke the silence. “Are you sure? Maybe they broke up.”

Jonathan peeled his eyes away. “I’m sure.” He shot his girlfriend a poignant look. “I heard him leaving late the other night.” Losing all interesting in the college catalogues, he shoved them away. “What an asshole.”

In the past two months, Jonathan had come to terms with his mother’s relationship and even approved of it. She was happy. Hopper seemed happy, too. He had grown accustomed to the idea that the man would continue to be a permanent fixture in their lives. Now, seeing Hopper with another woman, shattered that illusion. Any trust that had built up dissipated as he grew angry.

Nancy’s eyes were darting between her boyfriend and the couple across the room. “Maybe it’s not what it looks like.”

“Maybe,” came his disbelieving tone. The air around them grew heavy as they continued to watch. Hopper was oblivious to their presence, even as he got up to leave with the woman.

Jonathan quickly got up. “I’m following him.”

Nancy’s harsh whisper soon followed. “What? Why?”

“Nancy, I need to know. You can stay here, but I’m going.”

Her eyes moved to Hopper who was now leaving the diner. With a reluctant sigh, she followed Jonathan out. It wasn’t hard to follow the couple. Hopper had his arm draped lightly across her shoulders as they walked and eventually stopped at an unfamiliar car. Jonathan and Nancy ducked behind the next row of cars and watched as the couple talked.

“He’s humiliating my mom like this? In the middle of fucking Main Street?” 

“Shh! They’ll hear us.”

“I don’t care!”

Nancy put her hand on his forearm. “He wouldn’t cheat on her.”

“Oh yeah? What the hell is he doing then?” He pointed towards the car and Nancy followed his gaze. She groaned when she saw the woman lean in to kiss Hopper across the lips. “Fuck this,” Jonathan snapped. He refused to watch any further. With his foot, he took his anger out on the tire of the car they were ducking behind and then stormed away. Nancy didn’t look back at the couple, instead, she hastily followed her boyfriend away from the scene.

***  
Her son’s relationship with his girlfriend seemed almost perfect from the outside. So when Joyce got out of the shower, and heard them arguing on the porch, she couldn’t help but listen. The windows were open, allowing the late afternoon breeze to enter the hot house. Even from the dining room, she could hear their argument loud and clear.

“You can’t say anything!” snapped Nancy. “We don’t even know what we saw.”

“How can you say that? You were there! You saw him,” argued Jonathan.

“I saw something. But maybe it’s not what we think.” Her voice lost its intensity as she continued, “I just…I just don’t think he’d hurt her like that.”

“Yeah, well, he did. She deserves to know that truth. I’m telling her.”

Nancy let out an exasperated groan. “You’re making a mistake.”

“She’s my mom! You’d tell your mom. Wouldn’t you?”

Joyce couldn’t take it anymore. Her curiosity and concern outweighed her son’s privacy. She stepped out onto the porch and watched as the argument suddenly ceased. Both teenagers paled at the sight of her. “Jonathan, what’s going on?” she asked. Her eyes moved from her son, to his girlfriend, and then back again.

Jonathan and Nancy shared a look that Joyce didn’t miss before Nancy stuttered, “I should go.” She ignored her boyfriend and waved at Joyce. “Bye, Mrs. Byers.” She couldn’t escape the awkward scene fast enough.

“Wait, I’ll drive you!” called Jonathan, as she walked away.

“I’ll walk!” she snapped back.

He stifled a groan, but didn’t go after her. Nancy’s absence left Jonathan alone with his mother, who was staring at him with wide eyes. Her brows were furrowed and her teeth were already worrying over her bottom lip. His confidence drained away at the sight of her. He didn’t want to hurt her. Suddenly, anger boiled up inside of him. Jim Hopper had done this…and he would never forgive him for it.

“Jonathan,” Joyce eventually said. “You can talk to me.” The more he kept quiet, the more nervous she became.

At first, he looked everywhere but at her. Eventually, however, it became impossible to ignore her pleading gaze. If he didn’t tell her, he would be just as guilty. Finally, he met her eyes, stood straight up, and let his anger take over. “Hopper’s cheating on you, mom.”

Somehow, her face remained stoic, even as her stomach dropped. Her response was soft, almost inaudible. “What?”

“I know it’s messed up that I have to be the one to tell you, but who knows if he ever will, and you should know the truth.”

“I don’t…” Her words trailed off. Joyce’s head was spinning, so it was hard to get anything coherent out of her mouth. The afternoon sun was starting to sink, cooling the temperature down in the process. It didn’t stop her from sweating, though.

Half expecting her to flee, he stepped towards her, but she remained in place. “We saw Hopper having lunch at the Main Street Diner. He was with a woman.”

Refusing to let her mind head down that dangerous path, she crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes. “He’s the chief of police,” she defended.

Jonathan let out a bitter laugh. “Mom, no.” He shook his head. “This wasn’t police business. Trust me. They were holding hands.” As he spoke, Joyce grew flustered. It was harder and harder to keep her wandering thoughts at bay. Especially as he continued, “he walked her to her car and they kissed. Nancy was there, she saw it too.”

Joyce abruptly cut him off. “Stop.” She pushed her wet hair back behind her ears and shook her head. “That’s enough.”

Jonathan let out a dejected sigh. “I’m really sorry, mom.”

Suddenly remembering that it was her son that she was talking to, she gathered her strength and built her walls back up. She had already put too much on him. She wasn’t going to put this on him too. Pretending as if she wasn’t bothered at all, she forced her lips into a weak smile. “He’s not cheating on me.” The words were true, but sounded all wrong. They felt wrong, too. “We’re not um…we’re not an official thing…or anything.” Her heart was aching and her throat was burning with the urge to cry. The embarrassment of explaining their relationship status to her son made her long for the ground to open up beneath her and swallow her up. “He’s free to see whoever he wants.” Again, the words sounded false to her ears. If Hopper wasn’t doing anything wrong, then why did she feel so betrayed?

Awkwardly, Jonathan glanced towards the driveway. Then, frowning in disbelief, he put his hand on her shoulder. He didn’t believe her, but couldn’t bring himself to tell her that. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” With tears threatening her eyes and her throat screaming for release, the lie wasn’t easy to tell. Sensing that her son was desperate to flee, she let him off the hook. “You don’t have to stick around for pizza night. I’m sure you want to clear things up with Nancy.”

Jonathan couldn’t hide his relief. He cleared his throat. “Yeah, I should, but are you sure that you’re okay? I can stay home if you want.”

Somehow, she managed the energy to fake it. Once her son was gone, she stumbled back into the house and let her tears freely fall.

***  
Joyce was quiet during dinner. Too quiet. The kids didn’t notice. Completely oblivious to the adults around them, they chatted on and on about the new fort they were going to build. Hopper, however, did notice. He had asked her if she was okay twice already. He couldn’t ask again without pissing her off, so he bit his tongue and tried to enjoy the break from his diet.

Breaking away from his conversation with Eleven, Will turned towards Hopper and asked, “it’s still okay if she helps me with the fort, right?” Castle Byers held too many terrifying memories for Will. He was determined to build a new one, a better one. Will mistook Hopper’s stoic face for a ‘no’ and quickly added, “it won’t be far away.” He turned his gaze towards the window. “Look, you can see the spot from here.”

Hopper looked at Joyce instead of the window. “Fine with me.” Silently, he begged her to look back at him, but she kept her eyes on her son. “Joyce?” Her name fell harshly from his lips and it got her attention. Briefly, her saucer like eyes met his, but they provided him with no clues as to what was going on behind them.

“Be back by dark,” she told the kids.

Will smiled, but then remembered something and his smile fell. “Wait, Mike can still come over, right?” Joyce didn’t check with Hopper before nodding in agreement.

Eleven, whose face was bright with excitement, suddenly remembered something, and blurted it out with little thought. “Mike said that you’ll be my brother when they get married.” She pointed to Will and then glanced towards her father for confirmation. “That’s true?”

Hopper groaned and sat back in his chair. “What’d we talk about?”

Will ignored Hopper and answered the girl. “You’ll be my sister. I’ll be your brother.” His forehead wrinkled as his brain tried to put the logistics in place. “I guess we’d have to share a room, though. Maybe we could get bunk beds.”

Hopper scrubbed at his tired eyes. Between Joyce’s odd behavior and the kids, his head was starting to pound. He was about to put an end to the conversation, but Joyce beat him to it.

“I don’t think we’ll ever have to worry about that.” Her tone was laced with innuendo. It was enough to silence the kids, but not enough to do the same to Hopper.

He turned towards her with a confused expression. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing,” mumbled Joyce. Suddenly angry, she stood up and took her plate to the sink. The realization that her anger was directed at him didn’t help his utter bewilderment. Things were fine earlier. More than fine, actually. What could he have done to make her so angry? Helplessly, he glanced between her and the kids. Will was little help as he simply shrugged.

Luckily, his daughter had a knack for reading a room. “Let’s wait for Mike outside.” She suggested.

“Good idea!” insisted Hopper. He stood up and eagerly ushered them out. “Stay out of trouble.” It was becoming a lot easier to let her live a normal life. His preoccupation with a certain brunette may have helped him along.

“What’s going on, Joyce? And don’t even try to tell me nothing.” His gruff voice demanded answers.

“Just forget it,” she insisted. She had her back to him and was unable to stand still, so she wiped down the already clean countertop and sink.

“No,” he argued. “You’re mad at me, and I wanna know why.” His uniform had been replaced by an old black t-shirt that showed off his biceps when he crossed his arms.

Joyce shook her head. “It’s stupid. It’s none of my business anyway.” Her angry tone betrayed her words.

The longer she stood there, refusing to turn around and face him, the more confused he became. Eventually, he had enough, and moved so that he could place his hand on her back. “What isn’t?” At his touch, her body stilled. His fingers massaged her tense muscles as he continued, “what’s none of your business?”

His words snapped something inside of her and her anger came back with more intensity than before. Slamming her palm down on the counter, she whipped her body around so that her dark eyes stared up and into his. “It’s none of my business who you screw in your spare time.” The space in between his brows furrowed in incredulousness but before he could object, she snapped, “Jonathan saw you having lunch today...with someone else.”

Hopper’s face instantly fell at her statement. His stomach twisted and churned with the new revelation and all he could think to do was whisper her name. It was the first thing that popped into his head. He reached out for her, but she stepped out of the way.

“It’s stupid. I know. We’re not…we never…put a label on things…” she stuttered. As her cheeks turned red with embarrassment, she put her hand on them to cool them down. Her mind was battling several feelings at once. Humiliation, sadness, anger. They all fought for control until anger won out once again. “You lied to me, Hop! You said that you had budget meetings all day.” Her voice rose as she quickly lost control. “Now I’ve got Jonathan and god knows who else thinking I’m letting you run around on me all over town. I don’t need that.” Her gaze darted around wildly as she yelled, “things were just starting to get back to normal!”

Sensing that she was about to come undone, he slowly walked towards her and refocused her eyes on his. “Joyce, it’s not like that.” He put his hands on her shoulders to ground her in place. “My ex-wife, you know, Diane, she stopped into the station today.” She stared at him with a dazed look and Hopper wasn’t sure if she was even hearing him. 

Still, he continued anyway, “I didn’t know she was coming. She’s moving to Chicago…with her husband. She wanted to drop off some of Sara’s old things on the way.” He tried not to sound too desperate, but the fact of the matter was...that he was desperate...and it was hard to hide. He couldn’t lose her. Especially not over this. “That’s who I had lunch with. It wasn’t planned, or I would have mentioned it.” 

It took a while for her mind to register his words. It took even longer for her mind to compare them to what Jonathan had told her. So, instead of speaking, her face displaced a myriad of emotions all at once. Her silence unnerved him, so Hopper was quick to add, “it’s been years since I’ve seen her. And the stuff she gave me…it brought up a lot of memories and all.”

“Hopper,” she finally stated. She cleared her throat to say more, but he stopped her with a shake of his head.

“We’ve never really talked about Sara. Or anything, really, so it was a pretty emotional lunch. I’m sorry that he got the wrong idea, but it’s not…I’m not…” he let out an annoyed sigh and tried not to fumble through what he needed to say. “I’m not with anyone else. I don’t want to be with anyone else.” 

His words startled Joyce. Her shock was evident. Not knowing how to respond to that, her mouth hung open. Suddenly growing doubtful, Hopper’s brows furrowed as he asked, “do you want to be with anyone else?” 

Her response was soft, but confident. “No.” 

Hopper’s eyes drifted shut and he let out a relieved puff of air. “Then, let’s not be.” Their bodies moved simultaneously. His arm reaching for her, her chest falling into his chest. 

“I’m sorry,” she admitted. 

His chin moved to rest against the top of hers. “Don’t be.”

***

The sun was barely up as Hopper crept out of Joyce’s house the next morning. Once on the porch, he jumped when he came face to face with an equally startled Jonathan.

Still not over what he had seen at the diner, the teenager’s features twisted into a scowl as he said, “You’ve gotta do a better job at sneaking around.”

“Who said anything about sneaking?” Hopper had his hat in one hand and an unlit cigarette in the other. His top lip curled slightly as he advised, “maybe you need to do a better job of it. You told your mom you were coming home last night.”

Jonathan’s eyes ignited with righteous anger. “Yeah? And what’d you tell her?” Gruffly, he tried to get past him, but Hopper’s large body was blocking the entrance to the porch. Jonathan’s shoulder bumped into his bicep. He didn’t cower in fear under the stare of his own father and he certainly wasn’t going to start with Hopper. “Or, did you lie your way out of it?”

Hopper turned his head long enough to light his cigarette before his eyes were back on Joyce’s son. Unfazed by the verbal assault, his temper remained in check. He inhaled, then blew out a puff of smoke and said, “I told her the truth.”

At the unexpected statement, Jonathan’s face turned incredulous. “And she let you stay?” Disgusted, he kicked at the ground. “She wouldn’t even let Lonnie get away with that shit.”

It wasn’t the comparison to Lonnie, but the disgust, aimed at Joyce, that sparked Hopper’s temper. “Don’t,” came his stern warning. Jonathan had his mouth open, ready to respond, but then Hopper’s hand was on his shoulder, and his mouth closed. “My ex-wife...she was in town, dropping off some of my daughter’s things. That’s who you saw me with.”

Jonathan’s eyes widened slightly at the new information, but then, remembering what he saw, he shook his head and backed up so that Hopper’s hand fell off of his shoulder. “You...you looked like a lot more than exes,” he eventually stuttered, because his confidence was starting to wane.

Annoyed that he had to defend himself over something so innocent, he let out a sigh and fought down the urge to lash out. The only father Jonathan had ever known had betrayed his mother every chance he got. It’s all he knew, and that knowledge kept Hopper feeling empathetic, instead of angry. “Listen kid, we were married for 7 years, okay? We have a daughter. That’s a lot of history and that’s what you saw. That’s all you saw.” He stepped off the porch so that he could stomp out his cigarette on the ground.

With the path clear, Jonathan could have stalked past him, but instead, he stayed rooted in place. He suddenly couldn’t look at Hopper.

“I don’t know what’s gonna happen with her…” Hopper pointed towards the house and with his head still down, Jonathan followed. “But, I’m not Lonnie. Alright? I’m not gonna hurt her. You can trust me.”

Eventually, the teenager met his eyes. It was hard to let go of his reluctance and fear. Begrudgingly, he nodded. “Alright.”

The sun was shining low, but bright in the sky, forcing Hopper to put his sunglasses on. His hat soon followed. “Now get inside and pretend like you were there the whole time.” Jonathan rolled his eyes, but there was a hint of a smile on his lips. Hopper took a few steps towards his truck, but then stopped and added, “and do me a favor, come to me first next time.” With a sigh, he glanced at the house, “get the facts before you go upsetting her.” 

Jonathan’s cheeks tinged pink in shame. In his attempt at protecting his mother, he had ended up hurting her. Feeling guilty and embarrassed, he let out a slew of curses and wished he had just listened to Nancy in the first place. Women were smarter than men. He was sure of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My take on the always popular 'the other woman' trope. 
> 
> Random, but, I love Jonathan/Hop's relationship in the show. I find it fascinating. They seemed to click from day one and I love that. It's chalk full of 'daddy issues/missing father figure/step-dad type bond/teenage angst/grief.' Kinda hoping that Jonathan ends up being Hop's kid...but that's for another show. Or fic. lol. 
> 
> I've also read tons of fics where Joyce and Hopper are hiding their relationship, and I love them ALL, but I wanted to do this a bit different, and have them open about it with the kids from day one, mostly just to explore what that could be like, since I haven't seen it in a lot of fics yet. 
> 
> There will be a few more chapters of this and then it's done. I may write a short sequel/follow-up because I've got some ideas. But I also have some angsty Jopper fics I want to explore, too, so we'll see. ;)
> 
> Thank you so much for reading and for your super nice comments.


	12. The Twelfth Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry that it took me so long to update!

“It’s weird having the day off,” said Joyce. In between bites of her sandwich, she added, “I’ve always worked on Sundays.”

Having finished his own sandwich, Hopper stretched out in the chair behind his desk. “It’s good for you. You work too much.”

“Like I have a choice,” came her muttered reminder. She was sitting in front of his desk with her body slouched forward in an attempt to get as close to the window air conditioner as possible.

Eying her, he reached across the desk and wiped a smudge of peanut butter off of her lip. Her sheepish nod of thanks soon followed. He longed to tell her that someday, she wouldn’t have to work as much. Someday they could share the burden, together. The words were almost out of his mouth when he got a hold of himself. It was too soon for that. Their ‘exclusive’ relationship status had them spending more time together, but he was too afraid to hope that they were ready for more.

“Thanks for letting me haul up in here.” The summer season was sputtering out, only, the weather never got the memo. The air outside was sticky and gross. Her house, with the lack of air conditioning, wasn’t much better.

Hopper glanced around his office. It was dark, cluttered, and small, but it at least provided a welcome reprieve from the oppressive heat. “You can thank the town of Hawkins for buying that.” He pointed towards the window and then at her sandwich. “And thanks for making lunch.”

Feeling shy under his gaze, Joyce dipped her head down to her left. “It’s nothing.” Glancing up with a shrug, she added, “just sandwiches.”

With a chuckle, Hopper put his hand over hers. “It’s just what I needed to get through the rest of this paperwork.” He let go of her hand so that he could point to the piles of paper that littered his desk. Leaving the station at a reasonable hour every night left him less time for the mundane parts of the job.

“It’s not that bad,” she teased. She shifted her elbow on the desk and accidentally toppled one of the piles, sending a large manila folder flying through the air. It landed on the floor with a splat. Documents fanned out around it in an unorganized circle. “Shit, I’m sorry.” Before he had a chance to do it himself, she bent down and reached for the pile. Her hands stilled as her eyes landed on real estate advertisements.

Hopper cleared his throat when he noticed what she was looking at. “It’s my fault, I’m a slob.” He reached for the folder, but her fingers gripped it tightly and refused to move as her eyes scanned the rest. His heart sank when her wide eyes met his. Beneath her dark bangs, her forehead was furrowed with confusion.

“What’s all this?” she quietly wondered. It wasn’t just real estate listings that she was holding. There were contracts, realtor cards, and a pamphlet that read, ‘Buying and Selling.” The space in between them wasn’t immense, but it suddenly felt that way. Needing to close the gap, he leaned over the desk once again. He didn’t respond fast enough, and with a suspicious raise of her brow, she added, “are you moving?”

The fear in her voice was easy to catch. She wore her feelings on her sleeve. She always had. It had taken him almost a lifetime to figure out how to harness that quality to his own advantage. Anxious to put her at ease, he blurted out, “no.” However, it was a lie that he immediately had to take back. “Well, yeah.”

As expected, her gaze immediately dropped from his. She handed him the folder and he haphazardly tossed it into his desk drawer. After a few seconds, her eyes were back and this time, they shined with a familiar determination. “I should get home. I’ve got laundry to finish.”

Words tumbled out of his mouth before she could get up. “I can’t keep El out in the woods forever. And my trailer, it just wouldn’t be fair to her to bring her there. It’s too small.” Relieved that she remained in her seat, he continued, “I’ve been thinking about selling my land along with the trailer so that I can buy something closer to town. She deserves a real home.”

It took her a long time to respond. When she did, her teeth bit at her bottom lip. “That’s a good idea.”

“You think so?” came his eager question.

Joyce nodded. “You’re right. She needs a home, and that trailer has seen better days.”

At her teasing smile, he chuckled. “I was thinking, maybe you could help us look at houses, when the time comes.”

Surprise crossed her features briefly before she recovered with a shy laugh. “I’m sure you don’t need my opinions on all that.”

“I want your opinion,” he assured.

She paused for a few seconds. “Why?”

The insecurity that he caught in her tone made him frown. He didn’t want to scare her or overwhelm her, but he didn’t want to beat around the bush, either. He had learned from his mistakes. Armed with courage, he reached for her hand. “I’m hoping that when we’re ready…we can all live in the house. Together.” She held his gaze, even as her bottom lip trembled in fear. “Jonathan will be off to college next year and you’re always saying that your place is full of bad memories. It would be nice to start fresh, someday.”

She squeezed his hand to let him know that she was actively listening while her gaze fell to the desk. “That’s true,” came her whisper.

He let out a nervous chuckle to cover up the awkward moment. “I know it’s crazy.”

The speed of her eyes falling back on him surprised him. Suddenly, she was smiling. “It’s not crazy at all.” They shared a happy moment before her words caused memories of Bob to flood her mind. She had said the same thing to him, once. And then he was gone.

Hopper’s smile slowly faded away as he watched hers vanish. It often happened this way. In these moments, all he could do was be there for her. As if he could read her mind, he said, “Hey, I’m not going anywhere. And the house isn’t either...so we don’t have to worry about it right now.”

She shivered a bit as she took a deep breath and then let out a dissatisfied sigh. “I wish I could be normal.”

Hopper chuckled at that, breaking the tension of the serious moment. “We’re never gonna be normal, Joycie.” Her childhood nickname slipped through his lips quite accidentally, but he didn’t hate it. Especially when her nose and cheeks crinkled up into an adorable frown. “You and me, we never fit in here. It was always us against the world. Remember?”

His use of the word ‘us’ made her chest tighten. Her feelings for him were growing by the day. A part of her felt like she was careening head first off of a large cliff. The other part, felt like she was safely on the ground. “It still is.” Her comment made him smile.

Something shifted between them after that. It wasn’t a subtle shift. It was a massive one. That night, she asked him and Eleven to spend the night. And then the next night, she did the same. And the next night...until she didn’t have to ask at all. Eventually, Hopper and Eleven never slept anywhere else.


	13. The Thirteenth Night and Beyond

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the final chapter! Originally I had this going a lot longer, but this chapter just seemed like the perfect way to wrap it up. Thank you so much for all your kind reviews! This is my first ST fic and I feel a lot more confident now to write others! 
> 
> I may write a follow-up piece to this...because I can't get the idea of an unplanned Jopper baby out of my head, but I may also just do that as a stand alone piece. 
> 
> Angst alert for this one. There is nothing I love more than some Hopper angst. Good god. That man. He kills me with his inner demons.

The sound of the local news blaring through the TV hit Hopper as soon as he walked into Joyce’s house. Roughly ripping his hat off of his head, he grumbled and then turned the offending machine off. He didn’t need to hear the latest depressing news story that was gripping the town. He already knew what they were saying. 

With a groan, he trudged into the kitchen, leaving articles of his uniform in his wake. He wasn’t officially living there, but he felt comfortable enough to leave his things around. He grabbed two beers and plopped down at the kitchen table.

That’s how Joyce found him when she came in through the back door. The full laundry basket slipped from her hands and landed on the floor with a thud. “I didn’t hear you come in,” came her surprised greeting. Taking in his downcast eyes and slumped shoulders, she let out a sad sigh and moved towards him. “I saw the news…about that little girl. Are you okay?” Her hands moved to his shoulders, but instead of relaxing under her touch, his muscles tensed.

“I don’t wanna talk about it.” A 1st grader had been accidentally run over by a school bus on her way to Hawkins Elementary. She was pronounced dead at the scene. He had been one of the first responders there, and it was a sight that he couldn’t get out of his mind, no matter how much he tried.

“She was in Holly’s dance class. Karen’s really upset.”

Hopper’s jaw clenched and twitched. “Joyce, what did I just say?” She was behind him, so he missed her flinch, but didn’t miss the way her hands fled from his shoulders. An apology was almost out of his mouth, but then, stubbornly, he took a swig of his beer instead. The girl’s name was Sarah Andrews. Her name raced over and over through his mind like a mantra. Her first name, especially.

Hurt, but refusing to show it, Joyce walked back towards her basket and placed it on the table so that she could start folding. A thick silence surrounded them. Out of the corner of her eyes, she could see him taking long sips of his beer. He finished it, and then opened another one. There were plenty of other things that she could talk to him about, but her pride got in the way, so the silent tension continued to grow.

It was he who eventually broke the silence. “Where’s El?” He glanced around when he realized that the house was entirely too quiet. 

Roughly, she shook out one of his t-shirts before responding, “out for a walk with Mike.” She felt his intense gaze on her before she saw it. “What?”

“Out for a walk?”

Her brows arched at his incredulous tone. “She knows not to go far.”

“I don’t want her wandering around where she could be seen.” His words were clipped. Somehow, within the span of seconds, his grief had turned to anger and unfortunately for Joyce, she was in the line of fire. 

“There’s no one around, Hop!” She continued her folding, but her movements became frenzied as her temper flared up.

Hopper continued to stare her down, but she refused to meet his eyes and it made him angrier. “So this is what goes on when I’m not around? You let her do whatever the hell she wants? There are rules for a reason, Joyce!”

Finally, her dark eyes met his. “I know what I’m doing!” she snapped. “I raised two boys, remember?” The implication that she wasn’t capable of parenting his daughter stabbed at her chest. It hurt and irritated her at the same time. “Jesus, Hopper. Don’t take your bad day out on me.” She abandoned the laundry and left the table to turn on the oven. “Will’s coming home around 6, so we can eat then.” She was hell bent on ignoring his petulant behavior, but had trouble keeping the frustration out of her voice. 

Hopper took more sips of his beer and tried to function like a normal human being. Joyce deserved better. Better than him. He had never been any good at dealing with grief. It seemed like the more he tried, the more he fucked things up, but, he owed it to her to keep trying. “Where is he?”

She didn’t look at him as she answered, “Lonnie took him to a movie.” 

Hopper’s incredulous question quickly followed. “Lonnie’s in town?” His narrowed gaze watched her movements as she prepared dinner. 

Sensing that a fresh argument was brewing, Joyce turned around to face him. “He’s been asking to see Will.”

His face twisted at the new information. “Since when?”

“I don’t know.” She pushed her hair out of her face and then crossed her arms. “Does it matter?” Her question was laced with attitude.

Hopper’s chair noisily slid across the floor as he stood up. “Yeah, it does.” He moved across the room to grab another beer, but once it was in his hand, he didn’t open it.

Refusing to bristle under his attack, she stood her ground. “Why?”

The defiant way that she stuck her chin out should have warned him to leave well enough alone. But, he couldn’t. Not today. Not after Sarah Andrews. Not with El out there...and now Will. His worries spiraled and he suddenly lost complete control of his temper. “Where’s he been all this time, Joyce?” He yelled. “He didn’t give a damn that Will was even alive, now all the sudden he wants to see him?”

Her tone rose to match his. “He’s sober. He’s...he’s trying to get his shit together.” Her eyes involuntary darted to Hopper’s beer before drifting away.

Hopper scoffed at that. “How many times has he told you that?”

“What the hell is wrong with you?” She stepped close to him and would have been directly in his face if she were tall enough. “He’s my son!”

Jaw clenched tight, he stared down at her with an intensity that would have scared most people. “I’m just finding it odd that you, the woman who won’t let him out of your sight for more than ten minutes, let him go off with Lonnie, of all people.”

His statement was meant to hurt, and it succeeded. Anger bubbled up inside of her so suddenly and with such force that only an explosion could fix it. He went to open his beer, and she quickly slapped the can out of his hands. It hit the floor and burst open with a loud pop. Beer spewed all over the kitchen. When he turned to her in shock, she pointed her finger at him. “Will wanted to go. And he’s my son, Hop! He’s my son! He wanted to see his father and I let him!”

Their argument could have stopped right then and there. If he had been thinking clearly, if he weren’t feeling so out of control, if he were smart, he would have stopped it. But instead, he let it continue on, even as his mind was screaming at him to end it. “Did he really want to go, Joyce? Or was he just doing what he thought you wanted him to do?”

Joyce let out a bitter chuckle. Her face was red and her eyes were wild. Her words were practically a shriek. “I know my own son, Hopper! Just like you know your own daughter.”

Something inside of him cracked at that. Maybe she said it intentional to hurt him. Maybe she didn’t. It didn’t matter, though. His anger soared over the edge and there was no bringing it back. “My daughter is fucking gone, Joyce!” Feeling frantic, he kicked the now empty beer can and then took out his aggression on one of the chairs. He sent it sliding across the floor so fast that it toppled over. There were dishes and things on the table. He forcefully swept them onto the ground, not caring when they broke into pieces. “She’s dead. She’s not coming back!”

Out of breath, he sucked in huge heaps of air. His mind was spinning and he felt sick. He stared at Joyce long enough to see fear cross her features before he shamefully averted his gaze. Unable to stand there with her, he silently fled the room. She called out his name, but he wouldn’t turn back. Soon, he was out of the house and driving away as fast as he could.

***  
The kids all ended up coming back at the same time, and they were all later than they should have been. Anxious that they were about to get in trouble, they raced into the house only to find Joyce nowhere to be found.

Jonathan called out, “sorry I’m late. Derek was late for his shift again so I had to stay.”

Behind him, Will added, “mom, I’m home. The movie was kinda lame.”

Jonathan made it to the kitchen first and then stopped in his tracks when he saw the state of the room. Will, Eleven, and Mike skidded to a halt behind him as they all saw the mess at the same time. Broken dishes, papers, and beer littered the floor. A trail of blood was trickled from the table to the sink. “What the hell?”

“What happened?” demanded Mike. Frightened, Will called for his mother even louder. When no response came, Mike tried, “Mrs. Byers?”

Jonathan too, was scared, but he jumped quickly into action. “Stay here.”

Will made a face. “What? Why?”

“I’m gonna search the house.”

“I’ll come,” came Eleven’s quiet statement.

Jonathan frowned. “No, you guys just stay here.” 

“She should go with you!” Insisted Mike. When it was obvious that the teenager was going to argue, he added, “What if there’s someone…something…here? You can’t fight it alone, right El?” He looked towards her for approval and was happy when he got it.

More confident than any of them, Eleven stepped forward. “Come on.” She didn’t wait for Jonathan to follow before making her way down the hallway. He eventually did follow, and they searched room to room until they came to Joyce’s closed bedroom door. There was music playing so their knocks and calls went unheard.

Eleven didn’t wait for Jonathan’s approval before opening the door and stepping into the dimly lit room. The noise startled Joyce, who jumped up from her spot on the bed when she realized that she wasn’t alone. Tears were streaming down her face and she hurriedly wiped them away upon seeing the kids. 

Fearfully, Jonathan glanced around the room before eying her up. She was clutching a blood soaked dish towel around her hand and he immediately went to her. “What happened?”

Glancing down, Joyce shook her head and turned off the stereo. “Oh…nothing, nothing. I just cut myself while I was cleaning up some glass, that’s all.”

“Mom, that’s a lot of blood.” Jonathan’s tone was full of disbelief.

His mother was quick to assure him. “It looks worse than it is.” She peeled the towel away to show him that her hand was no longer bleeding. Eleven, who was on her eye level, stared at her with warm, concerned eyes. “I’m alright.” With her good hand, Joyce squeezed the girl’s shoulder. 

Eleven was slightly appeased, but Jonathan wasn’t. Biting his lip, he shook his head. Something wasn’t right and he wasn’t going to let her lie to him. “What happened to the kitchen?”

“I just made a mess, it’s fine.” She wasn’t a skilled liar. Her eyes darted around before making contact with his. She managed a smile, but it didn’t meet her red rimmed eyes.

Jonathan opened his mouth to argue, but then Will and Mike entered the room and he got distracted.

“I’m okay!” Joyce called out, before her youngest son could ask. She let go of Eleven and smoothed down her plaid shirt. “I lost track of time. Let’s go eat dinner.”

Will’s confused eyes swept the room. “Is Hopper here?” At the question, the color drained from his mother’s face. It didn’t go unnoticed. 

“His stuff’s out there,” added Mike. 

When Joyce didn’t respond, Jonathan crossed his arms. “Mom?”

“He...was here, a bit ago, yeah,” she stuttered.

“Where did he go?” Eleven wondered.

Softly, Joyce sighed and pulled the corner of her lip between her teeth. “I don’t know.” The truth slipped out before she could formulate a good lie. “He probably just ran to the station or something.” When she noticed that she had four pairs of eyes on her, she quickly changed the subject. “Come on. I’ll finish making dinner.” She managed to usher them out of the room, but Jonathan refused to budge.

“Mom, did you guys fight?” Jonathan’s tone was low. There was no mistaking his rage. His mother’s bloody hand concerned him. 

Joyce tried to shrug it off, mostly for Will and Eleven’s sake. “It was just an argument.” 

“Then what’s with the broken stuff? And why’d he leave?” His voice rose and his mother’s rose to match it.

“It was just a fight. Now can we drop it?” She shot him a stern look. She wasn’t going to get into it. 

“What’d you fight about?” Sensing that there was a lot more to the story, Will’s question was laced with concern. 

“Nothing baby. It’s fine. Everything’s fine.” She would be damned before she let the kids know that their argument was about them.

“It’s not fine, mom!” Jonathan refused to let it go. He had witnessed many fights between her and Lonnie, and there was nothing he could ever do to stop it. If the same type of thing was happening with Hopper, he wasn’t going to sit back and let it happen. “You’re in here, hurt. He’s gone. The kitchen looks like a bomb hit it. Stop lying!”

“Jonathan, enough!” Joyce snapped when her patience finally ran out. She glared at him, but then her eyes landed on Eleven, whose eyes were filled with tears.

“Is he coming back?” Eleven was growing up fast, but in that moment, with her sad eyes and worried features, she looked like a small child. 

Flustered and upset, Joyce wrapped her arms around her. “Of course he’ll be back.” Craving motherly affection, Eleven sank into the embrace. “Everything’s okay. People fight sometimes.” 

Refusing to believe her, Jonathan rolled his eyes. “Fine. Whatever you say, mom.” He side stepped Mike and Will and then left the room. The sound of his bedroom door slamming shut soon followed. 

***

Though Flo filled him in on the fact that Jonathan Byers was waiting for him, Hopper wasn’t in any way prepared for the anger that radiated off the teenager once he made it to his office the next morning.

“Where’ve you been?” Jonathan spat. He stood in the middle of the room with his eyes narrowed.

Hung over from the night before, Hopper groaned and put his hand over his face. “Why aren’t you in school?” He tried to get to his desk, but the boy put his body in front of his to stop him.

Jonathan ignored his question. He had a question of his own and he couldn’t keep it inside any longer. “Did you hurt my mom?” he yelled. 

Not expecting it, Hopper dropped his hand from his face and glanced towards the open door. “Jesus kid, a little warning next time.” With his long arm, he easily flung the door until it flew shut.

The distraction gave Hopper the opportunity to stalk past Jonathan in order to get behind his desk, where he sat down with an exasperated groan. It wasn’t hard to figure out exactly what he meant by ‘hurt.’ His determined gaze said it all. Hopper stirred his hot coffee, but then pushed it away in disgust. Depressed, and alone in his trailer after leaving Joyce, he drank himself to sleep and was now paying the price.

“Let’s talk.” He unbuttoned the cuffs of his sleeves so that he could roll them up to his wrists. It was going to be a long morning. When Jonathan didn’t move, he motioned for the chair. “Well?”

Still angry, and feeling protective, Jonathan narrowed his eyes but eventually sat down. “Did you?”

“Is that what she told you? That I hurt her?” Their eyes remained locked in a battle of wills until the teenager eventually gave in first and looked away.

“No.”

Hopper rested his head in the palm of his hand so that he could massage his aching temple with his thumb. Considering what he was being asked, he was remarkably calm, but he had no reason to get defensive. “First of all, do you really think that I’d still be here talking to you if I’d done that? You’ve seen her pissed off.” His statement wasn’t what Jonathan had been expecting. Their eyes met again and Hopper continued, “second, can I get a bit of trust here?”

Jonathan’s teeth nibbled at the skin around his thumb nail. His mind was full of insults that he wanted to hurtle at the man sitting across from him. “Trust? You said you wouldn’t be like Lonnie. You promised, so why should I trust you?”

Hopper didn’t appreciate being yelled at in his own office. Anger seeped into his gut and built up to his chest as he pounded his fist against the desk. “Really? You think I’m like him? Well, I’ve got news for you kid, I’ve spent my entire life trying to be the exact opposite of him. So you’re wrong, there.”

“You didn’t come back last night,” seethed Jonathan. “He used to do that shit all the time. They’d fight. He’d disappear for days. She’d worry herself sick, then he’d come back as if nothing happened. Isn’t that what you’re doing? Right now?” The words took the wind out of Hopper’s sails. Any argument that he was going to make vanished from his mind as his anger quickly dried up. He shut his eyes as Jonathan continued, “my mom and El, they stayed up all night waiting.”

Already nauseous from the hangover, the new information made it even worse. Hopper covered his forehead with his hand and then scrubbed his face. There was silence as he sat consumed with guilt. Fights with Joyce had always been intense. Even as kids. They were both stubborn. Both the type to punch back, verbally. They knew how to hurt each other. Walking away and getting some space seemed like the right move, at the time. He had intended to come back, and then one drink lead to another and another, and before he knew it, sleep found him fast. 

Eventually, he sighed in defeat. “I wasn’t trying to hurt them.”

Jonathan let out a bitter laugh, “you thought leaving wouldn’t hurt them?” 

Bristling, Hopper blew out a puff of air. “Sometimes it’s best to walk away from a fight.” 

“Why, so you don’t hit her?” 

The snarky remark pissed him off. “You wanna think the worst of me all the time? Fine, that’s fine.” He pulled out a cigarette and his lighter and sat it down on the desk. “But give your mom some credit. She doesn’t put up with any bullshit. Not from me, not from anybody.” 

Jonathan’s mouth was open, but it closed as he took the time to listen. Getting to the bottom of the story had helped to simmer his anger. “You told me to come to you. Remember?” 

Hopper chuckled at that. “I guess I did, didn’t I?” He took sips of his coffee in an attempt to wake up and then leaned back in his chair. The pair sat in silence because neither really knew how to end the conversation. 

“I don’t wanna think the worst of you.” Jonathan eventually muttered. He suddenly couldn’t meet the chief’s eyes.

“Then don’t.” 

“Then stop making her cry.” Jonathan volleyed back. 

Hopper shut his eyes and pursed his lips. The muscles in his jaw twitched as he caught himself before saying something that he would later regret. “I’ll fix it, alright? I’ve got a bunch of shit to follow-up on today and then I’ll come over and fix it. Okay?” 

Jonathan wanted to trust him. He really did, but Lonnie had done a number on his psyche, so it was easier said than done. Still, he decided, silently that he would try. “Alright.” Relieved, Hopper drank the rest of his coffee in two large gulps as Jonathan added, “so, uh...can you write me a note for school?” He looked at his watch and then frowned. “I just skipped my math test…” 

Hopper shot him an incredulous look. “Since when did they start caring about that sorta thing? Your mom and I skipped plenty of tests to go hang out under the...” his words trailed off as he suddenly remembered who he was talking to. “Never mind,” he quickly said. Hoping to change the subject, he reached for his letterhead and went to work writing a note. 

***

The kitchen looked different when Hopper built up the courage to go back to Joyce’s that evening. He surveyed the cleaned up mess with a shameful expression before turning his gaze towards the kids. “Where’s your mom?” Will and Eleven were sitting at the table doing a terrible job at pretending to draw. It was obvious that they were blatantly ignoring his existence. 

It was Jonathan who saved him from the complete embarrassment of having to beg for answers. “She picked up a double shift.” From his position in front of the stove, he turned to Hopper with a spatula in his hand. “I’m making dinner.” Their talk earlier had erased most of the tension between them, but Jonathan still spoke softly...as if he didn’t fully know where he stood with the man he had sparred with earlier. 

Hopper scratched his chin. “She did? I stopped by the store on my way here. I didn’t see her.” Half expecting Joyce to be hiding from him, he glanced around suspiciously before moving towards the table. 

Jonathan shrugged and then turned his back to him. “She must have been in the back or something.” 

“I guess I’ll just catch her when she gets home, then.” He looked down at Eleven, hoping to get her attention, but his daughter continued to ice him out. 

“You made her cry,” Will suddenly stated. He locked eyes with Hopper just long enough to let the man see how disappointed he was before training his eyes back down to his drawing. 

Already feeling horrible about himself, Will’s disappointment dug the knife in even deeper. He was an expert at ruining his own life and now, he was ruining other lives too. There was nothing left to do but apologize, and hope for the best. “Listen buddy, I’m sorry, alright?” His apology hung in the air for a long time. Will refused to look at him and he felt rather panicked. Raising one teenager was hard enough, raising three was completely over his skill level. 

To his surprise, Jonathan came to his rescue, again. “Will, he’s gonna fix it. I told you.” 

Hopper watched as the brothers shared a knowing look. Will’s eyes then moved to his. In silent acceptance, the boy nodded and then went back to drawing. Feeling more grateful than ever for Joyce’s oldest son, he then turned his attention to his daughter. “El…” She refused to acknowledge him in any way and he let out a pitiful sigh. “Let’s go talk.” 

Suddenly, her brown eyes were on his and the fury within them was unmistakable. “You left!” She snapped. “You didn’t come back!” 

“I know, I know...just please...let’s go talk.” He held up his palms in surrender. She was getting better with harnessing her powers, but occasionally, when angry, she would lose all control and he didn’t want Joyce’s house to end up like his cabin. 

She stood up quickly. “You didn’t call! You made Joyce sad! You left us! You left me!” she screamed. Jonathan and Will stopped what they were doing to stare at her in shock. 

“El, I know. It’s okay...I’m sorry.” Tears dripped out of her eyes and down her cheeks and the sight made him emotional. Kneeling down, he wrapped his arms around her and hugged her tightly. “I won’t do it again. I promise.” The girl cried into his chest and he could do nothing but keep promising to be better.

Eventually, she accepted his apology and the atmosphere grew less tense. Hopper actively tried to participate in their conversations while they all ate dinner, but his eyes kept glancing towards the clock. His anxiety grew with each passing minute. He wanted to see Joyce, but he was also dreading it. Apologies weren’t his strong suit and he knew from experience that she wasn’t one to accept them with ease.

Beside him, Eleven’s question got his attention. “What’s your plan?”

“My plan?”

“To fix things with Joyce,” she clarified. Her plate was clear, and she was eager for dessert, but stayed at the table with her eyes boring into his.

Hopper let out an amused snort. Eleven couldn’t read minds (as far as he knew) but she always had a knack for knowing what he was thinking and it never failed to surprise him. “I don’t have one.”

“Seriously?” questioned Jonathan. Across the table, he stabbed his fork into a piece of chicken. “You said you were fixing it.”

“I am,” bristled Hopper.

Eleven added onto Jonathan’s thoughts. “Don’t you need a plan, then?”

With a groan, Hopper’s hand went over his eyes. Abandoning his dinner, he rested back in his chair. “I was just gonna apologize. And smile.” Then under his breath, he added, “and maybe beg…”

“Flowers?” suggested Eleven. She had seen enough TV to know that flowers were step one when apologizing to a woman.

Beneath his hand, Hopper made a face. For the right occasion, Joyce might appreciate the overpriced gesture, but this wasn’t one of them. Instinct told him that.

“Flowers die,” said Jonathan. “My mom, she’s…” His words trailed off as he glanced around, trying to find the best way to describe her. “She’s…not like that.”

Eleven turned her attention to Jonathan. “Something pretty?” After flowers, the next TV gift was always jewelry.

The teenager shook his head. “She can’t be bought. I’m telling you…”

“He’s right, El,” came Hopper’s sigh. “I’m just gonna have to do this the old fashioned way.” Grateful for her ideas, he reached out and patted her arm in encouragement.

“Old Fashioned?’

“Yeah. You know. Like the characters in the books we read.” There was still so much about the world that she didn’t understand. He loved teaching her and did his best not to get frustrated with her lack of knowledge.

To his surprise, it was Will who had the best plan. “You should go meet her at work and take her out when she’s done.” The boy had been avoiding him most of the night and was more quiet than usual. His sudden statement rendered Hopper momentarily speechless and Will grew self-conscious. “It’s stupid, I know.” Sheepishly, he glanced down at his food.

“No. Actually, it’s not,” responded Hopper. He had grown fond of Will. They had a bond, of sorts, and it bothered him to know that his actions had jeopardized that. “It’s a good idea.” He insisted. Then, in a more jovial tone, added, “she can’t kick me out that way.”

“And she can’t kill you, with all those witnesses around.” Jonathan’s sarcastic comment wasn’t meant to be all that funny, but everyone laughed anyway. It broke the remaining tension that still lingered in the air.

***

Hopper leaned up against Joyce’s Pinto in a way that he hoped looked nonchalant. After driving past the store a few times, he had finally parked, but opted not to go in. It was best to wait for her outside. She couldn’t avoid him that way. Not when his large frame obstructed her only way home. The wait was long and painful, but he took it in stride and considered it penance for what he had done. 

Finally, he caught a glimpse of her leaving the store. With a cigarette dangling from his lips, he stood straight up and steeled himself for what he knew would be a battle. She didn’t see him at first. Her head was down and her shoulders were hunched forward. She didn’t look up until her feet hit the pavement of the parking lot and when she did, her face was a perfect mask of stoicism. 

For a split second, she stumbled, and he briefly worried that she was going to head in the opposite direction. She didn’t though. True to form, she straightened up and marched towards him with renewed confidence. 

He expected a yell, a lecture, or even a slap. And he was ready for it all. What he wasn’t ready for, was the utter silence that fell over them once she was standing beside him. Her eyes drilled into his, but revealed nothing. Unprepared for the turn of events, his mind went blank. Awkwardly, he thrust a pack of fresh Camels into her hand without a word.

She kept her gaze fixed on his, before she moved it down to the pack. Over and over, her fingers slide over the smooth surface. It was the only tell that she was as nervous as him. “Finally switch brands?” 

Relief flooded his senses at her words. Anything was better than silence. His brain began to function again. He inhaled from his cigarette and then pulled it away from his lips. “You left them in the truck.” Disappointment crept across her features and he felt panicked again. “I’ve been meaning to give them back to you.” 

Joyce squeezed the pack and it crinkled beneath her fingers. Her eyes drifted from his then as she slid the pack into her jacket pocket. She felt sure that she had purged herself of all of her pain the night before, but as her eyes filled with tears, she realized how stupid that seemed. “So you came here to give me these.” 

It wasn’t a question, but a defeated statement. One that made his chest burn. “No,” he argued. “I, uh...was thinking that we could go for a drive.” He hoped that she wouldn’t notice how shaky his free hand was as he reached for her shoulder. 

“Hopper...I’m tired. I just wanna go home.” She was overly aware of his hand on her. She wanted to slap it away but she didn’t have the energy. 

He ground his cigarette into the pavement with his shoe and then sighed. “Joyce, please...we need to talk...and I don’t wanna do it in the middle of Main Street.” He glanced around to prove his point. There were very few people milling around at such a late hour, but it was still more of an audience than he wanted. 

Without warning, her eyes suddenly connected with his, but this time, they were ignited with anger. “We need to talk?” She stepped back and out of his grasp. Pointing a finger at him, she continued, “you’re the one that didn’t come home last night. So what the hell do we need to talk about?” 

Through her tirade, the word ‘home’ stuck out to him. She had never referred to her house as his home. Or, their home. He hadn’t either. The idea made his stomach drop as he realized that his error in judgement was even worse than he thought. His mind quickly resorted to begging. “I know...and I’m sorry, I just wanna talk. Please.”

Her eyes scanned his. It was clear to both of them that she was going to bolt if she found even an ounce of insincerity. He stepped close to her and grabbed her hands. “Joyce…” 

Too stubborn to let him get his way that easily, she shook her head. “I should get home to the boys.” 

“They’re okay, I was there for dinner.” 

She was surprised at that, and it showed when her brow arched. Biting her lip, she argued, “you should get back to your daugh…” her words trailed off as she realized her mistake The way he had lashed out over the term was still fresh on her mind. With wide eyes, she corrected, “El. She needs you.” 

Feeling like the biggest piece of shit on planet, he briefly wished a sink hole would open up and swallow him whole. He had ruined everything and now, the woman he loved was afraid of him. “She’s with the boys. It’s okay, I talked to her...to them.” Hopper held out his hand. “Come with me. Please…” 

Realizing that she was fresh out of excuses, Joyce let a defeated sigh fall from her lips and eyed up his desperate form. Though she was angry, it was still hard to see him begging. With a groan, she finally gave in and followed him to the truck. 

Once they were cruising away from the center of town, he reached over and grabbed her hand. She didn’t pull away, but hers remained lifeless in his. He didn’t care that she wasn’t exactly holding it back. He needed to feel her skin against his own as proof that she was still there. Proof…that he hadn’t driven her away yet.

He parked at their old teenage haunt, overlooking Lover’s Lake. This normally would have gotten a joke out of her, or at the very least, an amused smirk, but she said nothing. Her face remained impassive as she took in the dark surroundings. She pulled her hand away from his and refused to meet his gaze, even as he launched into his rehearsed apology. He explained, apologized, begged, pleaded, promised to never do it again, and still, she wouldn’t look at him. In the moonlight, tears glistened as they fell down her cheeks. She wiped them away, but not before he noticed.

“Joyce, hey…talk to me.” Was she upset over what he said? Or what he had done? He couldn’t be sure and her silence was unnerving. Tears continued to fall down her face and with each passing minute, he grew more and more desperate. Finally, he took a chance and gentle brushed his palm across her cheek. “Please.”

Eventually he got a response out of her, but it again, wasn’t what he expected. “I wasted too many years waiting for Lonnie to come home. I won’t do it again.” She shook her head until his hand fell away. Her watery eyes met his. As anger took over, her tears stopped falling. Suddenly, Joyce sat up straight and jabbed her finger into his chest. “I swear to god, Hop. If you do that again, don’t bother coming back. I mean it.”

No matter how many times he saw her angry, the sheer intensity of it never failed to amaze him. It was hard to believe that such a tiny creature was capable of such fury. Hopper wiped his hand over his mouth. “Joyce, I swear, I won’t.” As if she were a bomb that he was afraid of detonating, he kept his tone even and gentle. “I messed up...I know. And I’m awful at this, I really am...but Joyce, I’m trying, okay? I really am...and I’ll never do that again.

She silently listened and he waited on baited breath to see what her next move would be. Now that the black hole had gotten her, now that she had witnessed how destructive it could be, maybe she wouldn’t want to stick around her after all. He couldn’t blame her. 

After a few minutes, she let out a sigh and then shivered. Her gaze shifted to her hands and his stomach dropped. Sure that she was ending things, grief poured over him like a bucket of ice water. Putting his hands on the steering wheel, he faced forward. Tears sprang to his eyes and he didn’t want her to see. 

“Hop?” 

Letting out an audible breath, he closed his eyes, preparing for the worst. “Yeah?” 

“Can we go home?” 

With furrowed brows, he turned to look at her. “What?” Her small hand moved to rest on his knee and he was momentarily stunned by it. 

Her nose crinkled in confusion. “Home, Hopper. Can we go home?” 

“Together?” 

“Well, yeah.” She said, as if he weren’t speaking English. 

Hopper sent her a wry grin. “Home.” He agreed. “Yeah, let’s go home.” He put his hand over hers and squeezed. 

The end.


End file.
